Speak Now
by Saritadreaming
Summary: One Bride, One Groom... One Huge Lie. When Bella learns the truth about their long ago past, can she stop Edward from making the biggest mistake of his life? Can they survive the aftermath? AH Edward/Bella/Tanya. Collab between SaritaDreaming and wmr1601
1. Prologue

**Title: **Speak Now

**Authors:** SaritaDreaming and wmr1601

**Summary:** One Bride, One Groom… One Huge Lie. Edward and Bella get together at a party hosted by Mike Newton, but by the end of the night, something's come between them. Fast forward four years to Edward's wedding to Tanya. Bella learns the truth behind what happened on that long ago night. Can she convince Edward to listen to the truth before it's too late? AH

**Authors' Note:** We'd talked about doing a collaboration before we realized that we were both signed up for the Foxy Fics; we contacted Kat and she said that it would be fine for us to work together on our submission for this fundraiser, so we got together on instant messaging and worked out a plot. We used Taylor Swift's song _Speak Now _as inspiration, but the story turned out to be so much more_._ If you haven't heard the song, then we suggest finding it on YouTube and taking a listen. Once we had the basic plot points worked out, writing this story was a lot like passing a pad of paper back and forth. We each took a POV and would write our part, then email it back and forth before finally putting the whole thing together into one master document.

_Head over to Foxy Fics during the month of March, and for a minimum donation of $5, you'll get the rest of this story as well as tons of others from many great authors. Link is on my profile._

**From wmr1601:** Special thanks first and foremost to Sarita, for approaching me about co-writing with her. It's been a blast, and I'm looking forward to continue working with you both on this story and other stories in the future! Also thanks to my very best friend, Caz, for being a constant supporter to me through all of my insecurities, and for being a prereader for SN. The fact that we've never met face to face doesn't matter; I can't imagine my life without her. Thanks bb!

**From SaritaDreaming:** I want to thank Wendy for taking a chance and writing with a collab virgin, LOL. I'd been dying to do a collab, but I wanted to find someone whose writing style was similar enough to my own. When I read Wendy's one-shot 'C_heck Yes or No_' in a contest I'm an admin for, I fell in love with it, and when I was thinking about someone to write with, she kept coming back to my mind. Thank you to Keye and Sandy, my bestest buddies and pre-readers for all my stories. Last, but certainly not least, thanks to my awesome beta, Jess (jkane180), who has taught me a great deal over the past several months and always makes me sound like I know what I'm doing even when I don't.

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**Suggested listening for this story:**

**Speak Now** ~ Taylor Swift

**Blurry **~ Puddle of Mudd

**What If ** ~ Coldplay

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**~Prologue~**

**~*Bella*~**

It's been nearly four years since I stepped foot in Forks. After living in Florida with the constant heat baking into me, the cool, damp air feels like heaven as it settles on my pale skin like a tender caress. The sky is a mottled gray, and the sun tries to peek through, but it's not likely that it will. A gentle breeze ruffles the ends of my hair; a shiver runs through me, and I question if it's the weather or the reason I came back here that's causing it.

I stand on the cracked sidewalk of the main road that runs through town - Forks Avenue; my high heels make crunching noises on the crumbled pieces beneath them as I fidget. Above me is a canopy of green leaves swaying in the breeze, and I inhale deeply, enjoying the unique scents of nature and the town that, a few years ago, I was dying to get away from. Glancing around curiously, I see that things haven't changed much at all; the storefronts look the same, if a tad bit shabbier, and there seems to be a new internet cafe where the old dress shop used to be. Resting my hand on the trunk of the huge oak tree that's sheltering me, I rub my fingertips across its bark in an attempt to feel more grounded. It doesn't work.

I finally decide to turn my attention to the building that houses the reason I'm here; the Abundant Mercy Church. My lips twist into an ironic ghost of a smile. _Abundant mercy_. I could have used some of_ that_ four years ago, but I _know _I'm going to need it now. The little white church sits there innocently, welcoming in the faithful, the loving, the weary, and the misdirected. It's arched windows look like eyes to me, eyes that can see inside my soul, and I wonder idly if God will strike me down for what I'm about to do.

I've always considered myself a good person, a kind one. I've never been particularly religious; despite the fact that most of my neighbors are parishioners, I'm not even sure what the inside of this church looks like. Anger buzzes through me as I remember what brought me here.

And what I came to do is rather time sensitive, so I shouldn't spend the day rooted to the spot across from the scene of the crime. Smoothing the skirt of my sapphire blue dress, I look both ways before crossing the street. There are no cars in sight, and the clicking noises my heels make on the tarmac are rather loud and sharp, cutting through the quiet in short staccato echoes.

I reach the sidewalk on the other side and stand before the quaint, yet majestic, church. My eyes roam over the front steps, and I'm tempted to run up them and burst through the doors, but, in the end, I decide to case out the place first.

Walking along the left side of the building, I hear voices coming through an open window, and I pause to listen.

"How are you holding up?" a woman's voice that sounds vaguely familiar asks.

"I'm okay, I guess. I just hate everything about this podunk town, and he _insisted _that we had to be married in _this _church. I never expected to be back here with these inbred hicks."

There's only one person I know of with a voice that could give nails on a chalkboard a run for their money and would speak so derisively about the friends and neighbors from her own home town—Tanya Denali.

In a bold move, I lean forward until I can peer in the window. What I see of the bridal room from my awkward vantage point are pale green walls and a tall, freestanding mirror framed in mahogany. Tanya stands before the mirror, preening. I can see her perfect profile; her strawberry blond locks are pulled up into an intricate 'do with a few, stray spirals cascading down her back and a sparkly tiara to complete the look. Her voluptuous body is encased in a white strapless gown that fits her like a glove, and, I hate to admit, she wears it well. She's too entranced with her own image in the mirror to take notice of me watching her through the window, and I think the billowing curtains might afford me a little bit of camouflage anyway.

"Oh, Tanya, be grateful that you're marrying a man like Edward. There aren't many out there like him, sweetie."

Moving over slightly so the other woman is in my view, I see that it's Tanya's sister, Kate. Kate is a beautiful woman; tall and regal with long, straight, corn-silk hair that falls halfway down her back. As her head moves, her hair swishes back and forth softly, and it hypnotizes me.

"I know, Katie, but it just pisses me off that I couldn't get married where _I_ wanted to. You know that big beautiful church with all the stained glass in New Hampshire? Near _Dartmouth_ where all my _friends_ are?" Tanya whines.

Rolling my eyes, I remember why I can't stand her; she's so fake and surfacey. If I was marrying a man like Edward, I wouldn't give a shit if it was at City Hall, just as long as I knew he was mine–that I could take him home and make love to him all night. I feel a twinge in my abdomen at that thought, and memories roll over me slowly, taking me back in time...

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**A/N: If you'd like to know when this story is continued, add it to your story alerts. It will most likely be in April sometime. Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 1 Nice Girls Don't

**A/N: Finally, we are posting the first chapter of Speak Now! Thanks to everyone who added this story to alerts/faves and reviewed the prologue. You guys are awesome!**

**Huge thanks to our pre-readers and friends, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for offering their valuable feedback and to Jess (jkane180), the fastest beta in the West who still manages to catch everything.**

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**Chapter 1**

**~Nice Girls Don't~**

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**~*Edward*~**

I stand in a Sunday school classroom in the Abundant Mercy Church in my hometown of Forks, Washington. _Hometown. _The word hardly fits anymore. I've been living in New Hampshire for the past four years, but I do still have roots here; I can't deny that.

I look around the room, eyeing all of the children's artwork on the walls. Pictures of Mary and Joseph, little baby Jesus, and Moses parting the Red Sea—traditional Bible stories. I remember coloring some of those same pictures when I attended here with my parents as a child. The room holds many happy memories for me, but I don't allow them to take root in my mind. Not today.

I'm supposed to be getting dressed. I turn and walk over to the place where my tux is hanging on a hook, right next to the only window. Today, this room is not a children's classroom; today, it's the Groom's dressing room. And I'm the groom. _I am the _groom. I_ am the groom. _I repeat the words to myself, emphasizing different parts of the sentence, but they don't make me feel any better about anything; they just begin to lose meaning.

I find myself staring out the window instead of putting my tux on. I'm supposed to be entering the sanctuary of the church in—how long? I glance down at my wristwatch. _Twenty minutes. _Which means that in less than an hour, I'll be married. I sigh.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when a large hand claps down on my shoulder.

"Penny for your thoughts?" my brother Emmett asks.

"Not today, Em," I say. I shouldn't even be_ having _these thoughts, and I feel guilty about the fact that they're running through my mind at all. There's no way I'm going to voice them. I realize that I sound defensive; that isn't my intention, and I hope I haven't offended him. I look into my brother's blue eyes, and I know that I haven't. His face is filled with concern. I wonder what he's reading in mine.

He drapes his arm around my shoulders and steers me to a secluded corner of the room, away from our father and the other groomsmen. When he's satisfied with our position, he leans in close to me. I can tell that what he's about to say makes him uncomfortable by the way he's keeping it a secret from everyone else in the room. "Are you sure you're making the right decision?" His voice is very quiet; I've never realized that Emmett is capable of talking so quietly. I should be shocked and appalled by his question—outraged, even—but I'm not.

I ignore Emmett for a moment, processing his question; my gaze drifts back toward the window and the spot I've recently vacated. I watch the wind rustle the tree leaves and imagine being as free as that wind. But I'm not. I envy the wind. I think through my words carefully before I answer him. _Am I sure that I'm making the right decision? _I think I am. I _do_ love Tanya, after all. I _am_ sure of that. Is it the head-over-heels, soul-mate, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of love? Probably not, to be perfectly honest. _But is it enough? _Yes, I'm fairly certain that it is. Besides, I already had that kind of love once. I had it and I lost it. I lost her. Or more specifically, she chose someone else. I shake my head. I can't let myself think of _her _today. Every time I think of her, my chest constricts and I feel like crying. I don't, of course, except when I'm in the privacy of my own bedroom.

I look back at Emmett and say the only thing that I can think of. "It doesn't matter. It's too late." I wish it wasn't too late for me, but I know that it is.

Emmett looks as if he expected me to say that—or at least something close to it. His eyes are filled with sorrow. _Sorrow for me? _I love my brother. He's always been my biggest supporter and best friend. "It's not too late until you say the words," he tells me.

My heart sinks. I wish he was right, but he's not. I smile at him, trying to reassure him—and probably myself, too—that I'm confident with my decision—happy, even—but my smile is stuck on my lips; it doesn't reach my eyes. Even I can feel its falseness. It _is _too late for me. Asking Tanya to marry me was a decision I labored over, not one that I made lightly. I wouldn't have asked her if I'd thought I couldn't live with the decision. My arms cross over my chest, and I take a deep breath. "I asked her, Em," I say. "I can't back out now. If I did, it would destroy her."

"If you commit before you're ready, though, it'll destroy _you_," he counters.

I shake my head. I can appreciate what he's saying, I really can, but this is one area where he's wrong. Squaring my shoulders, I hug my brother stiffly and return to the place where my tux hangs.

The wedding planner bustles into the room, clapping her hands. "Ten minute warning, gentlemen. Ten more minutes to show time." Her eyes scan the room, and when they land on me, her look is one of disbelief. "Why aren't you dressed yet?" she asks. Her voice sounds like she's accusing me of murder.

I want to scream at her, _Because it's going to be the wrong bride walking down the aisle! _But I don't. I just mumble an apology and grab the tux from its hook on the wall and carry it to the most private place I can find—the same corner I'd just been talking to Emmett in—to begin dressing. I turn and look over my shoulder. The woman has been watching me walk away, and now that she's satisfied that I'm going to actually change my clothes, she leaves.

Facing the wall, I remove my street clothes and replace them with the wedding attire. I'm slow, trudging through the dressing process. As I button the round, black buttons on my tuxedo shirt, I finally allow my mind to think about the event that's brought me to this place. One day, four years ago, pushed my life to this place…

**~*Bella*~**

_During senior year at Forks High, I was the new girl—the one everyone was curious about because I was the police chief's daughter and a transplant from sunny Arizona. I objected to being treated like a bug under a microscope, but in a town as small as Forks, it was unavoidable. Although I was never one to be easily impressed with a guy, I found myself drawn to Edward Cullen like a moth to a flame. Edward had been graced with intense green eyes, full pink lips, a jaw that looked as though it had been carved by the finest artisans, and hair that could awaken the fantasies of nearly every female within range—a sexy, chaotic mass of auburn strands arcing every which way. The term 'sex hair' seemed to have been coined with Edward Cullen in mind._

_Edward was my biology partner, and my face was usually red as a tomato from the moment I walked into the room until the final bell rang. His nearness set my heart pounding, and sometimes I was sure he could hear it. Aside from being extremely blessed in the looks department, Edward was also on the football team and ridiculously popular. Guys like him didn't look at girls like me._

_One day, I entered the room, and Edward was already seated at our table, his chin resting in his hand. My eyes met his unexpectedly, and I was unable to look away before a lopsided smirk spread across his face. I was so flustered that I stumbled over the leg of another lab table as I made my way toward my stool, and a few of the popular girls snickered behind their hands._

_My face was flaming as I sat down, and I allowed my long hair to form a curtain between us. A few minutes later, my hair was held back away from my face, and I was startled to feel Edward's fingers graze my cheek. Leaning his head down, he peeked at me curiously._

_"Hey, Bella? You don't need to hide from me, you know. I don't bite... unless I'm provoked." His voice was velvety smooth, sexy and playful all at the same time._

_My eyes shot to his, and they reminded me of the Caribbean Sea—fathomless green depths that threatened to pull me under if I wasn't careful. "Wh-what?" I stammered._

_Edward chuckled, his fingers tucking my hair back. "You're far too pretty to hide behind your hair, Bella."_

_"I am?" The question slipped out before I could clamp my mouth shut, and my face grew hotter._

_He stroked a finger lightly across my cheekbone. "You are, and you don't even know it, do you?" he asked softly._

_After that day, Edward would go out of his way to speak to me whenever he saw me. He was often flanked by a cheerleader or two, who would look at me as though I had nerve breathing 'their air,' but Edward always had a smile and often a wink for me. In Biology class, he seemed to go out of his way to look for opportunities to touch me and make me blush—a hand on my arm, a brush of our fingers, or his leg jostling against mine._

_Edward's behavior did nothing to curb the attraction I felt for him, and I started having dreams of him holding and kissing me. After a night of particularly exciting dreams, my face would flush deeper than ever, and it always drew that lopsided smirk I'd grown to love so much to his handsome face._

_Our harmless flirting was taken up a notch one night when Mike Newton had a party. Mike had been hinting around about going on a date and maybe taking me to prom, but I kept putting him off. I finally agreed to go to his party, just to shut him up, figuring there would be lots of people there, so what could he really do?_

_When I arrived at the party, I found a few of my friends already there. Mike offered me an unknown alcoholic concoction in a large, red plastic cup, but I waved him off. A few minutes later, I changed my mind when I saw a familiar head of mussed bronze hair across the room. Grabbing a cup, I downed the whole thing in a few gulps—it tasted god-awful—but I was soon filled with a burning form of liquid courage._

_When Edward sauntered over, putting an arm around my shoulders, I smiled up at him. "Hey, Edward." I think I may have batted my lashes a little._

_Edward's emerald eyes grew wider. "Bella... you look really good tonight. How come I haven't seen you at Mike's parties before?"_

_I shrugged. "I'm here now, right?" I winked at him. Wow, what was _in_that drink? I felt on top of the world—I even thought I looked kind of pretty._

_"I need some air; want to come with?" Edward asked, already placing his hand low on my back to guide me toward the back door._

_"Sure."_

_The night air was cool, but not uncomfortably so. We strolled down a flagstone path in Mike's backyard that wound around some trees and bushes and finally led to a swing set and slide next to a small shed. Edward lit up a cigarette, blowing a plume of smoke in the air. I didn't approve of smoking, even though I'd tried it a few times, but, boy, did I envy the cigarette his lips were wrapped around. I watched his mouth in fascination as he smoked, my 'acceptable behavior' filters broken down by the alcohol._

_Edward looked down at me and smirked. "You like what you see?"_

_"Um... what?"_

_Flicking the cigarette away, he stalked closer to me, and I ended up backing right into the wall of the shed. "Oh!"_

_Edward chuckled, placing a hand on either side of my body, effectively caging me up against the wall. I found myself staring at the neckline of his heather gray t-shirt, and his Adam's apple bobbed slowly. "Bella, look at me."_

_It was as though I was powerless to resist, and my eyes rose slowly, taking in his strong jaw, the signature smirk, and, finally, his green eyes. They darkened considerably when they met mine, and the intensity in them caused me to lose my breath. We just stood there for what seemed like several minutes, staring into each other's eyes before his gaze flicked down to my lips. He leaned in, lids fluttering closed as his lips touched mine, light as a feather. Edward slipped a hand behind my neck to cup my head, his other hand still against the wall beside me. "Is this okay, Bella?" he murmured against my mouth._

_"Mm-hm..." I hummed. It was all I was capable of as my heart slammed into my ribs._

_Receiving the permission he sought, Edward deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over mine at an excruciatingly slow pace. My hands were flattened against the rough surface of the wall, and I realized my body was as tense as a bowstring. Relaxing into the sensations flooding me, I tentatively placed a hand on his chest, sliding it up around his neck. I felt the softness of his hair, and my fingers wove themselves into it. Edward let out a groan and nibbled at my lip; I shivered slightly in the cool air—I hadn't wanted to stop and grab my jacket before we came out because Edward already had his on._

_"Cold?" he asked._

_"A little," I admitted._

_"Come here," he whispered. Opening his black leather jacket, he pulled me up against him, wrapping the jacket part way around my body. My arms slid around his waist, and his scent assaulted me—the distinct smell of leather, menthol and a musky aroma that was all man. His lips captured mine again, and this time he was more aggressive, pushing us both back against the wall and licking along my lower lip. I opened my mouth to him as his tongue eagerly sought mine. Edward's kiss seemed so right, so perfect; it was as if we'd done this before._

_"Yo, Cullen! Where the hell are ya'?" The voice came from the direction of the house._

_"Shit." Edward pulled back slightly, his arms still wound tightly around me. "Maybe they'll go away."_

_"Ed-man, we need you to settle a musical dispute! Don't make me come and find you!" Another, booming voice joined the first one._

_"Emmett," Edward sighed. "My brother is the most persistent pain in the ass... He must have made another bet with someone, and he's hoping I can save his ass."_

_"Go ahead."_

_Edward looked down at me with longing. "I don't want to leave you." My heart thudded harder at his admission. "Look, I want to pick up where we left off, okay? I've been waiting to kiss you for a long time."_

_"You have?" I asked with some surprise._

_"Ever since the first time I saw you blush." He swept his fingers across my flaming cheeks, a lopsided grin appearing on his face._

_"That would have been..."_

_"The first day I met you." Edward brought his lips back to mine, plunging his tongue into my mouth and kissing me thoroughly. Tingles shot straight to my core, and my panties grew wet._

_"Fuckin'-A, Edward! I know you're out there smoking!" Emmett yelled. "I've got fifty bucks riding on this, man."_

_"I've got to go. How about we meet back here in about half an hour?" Edward seemed reluctant to let go of me, and I swooned inside._

_"Sure. Sounds good."_

_Grabbing my face between his hands, Edward leaned in for one more searing kiss before jogging back up the path to the house._

_It was my last happy memory of him before it all went wrong._

**~*Edward*~**

_"I've got to go. How about we meet back here in half an hour?" I didn't want to release her, and she seemed to know it. I'd been infatuated with her since the first moment I saw her, months before. I loved her deep brown eyes, her pink blush whenever she was feeling nervous or embarrassed, and her curtain of mahogany-colored hair. I'd imagined kissing her plump, pink lips from the moment I'd first laid eyes on them—having gotten to do just that for the past twenty minutes had been nothing short of my own personal heaven._

_"Sure. Sounds good," Bella said breathlessly._

_Unable to leave her just yet, I cupped her face in my hands, leaned in, and pressed my mouth to hers once more, somehow managing to keep my tongue in my own mouth this time. How I was strong enough to do that, I'll never know._

_I was rock hard from my make-out session with Bella, and that made the jog back up to Mike's house less than comfortable. I knew that if I took my time, though, I'd end up with my tongue jammed down her throat again. While that was what I really wanted, I'd never hear the end of it from Emmett if he knew what I'd been doing. I wasn't ashamed, not in the least, but that didn't mean that I wanted to be razzed by my older brother._

_Just as I was climbing the porch steps, Emmett came out again, shouting. "Edward! Good God! Where—" He stopped suddenly when he saw me. "It's about time, man. Where the hell have you been? You know Mom and Dad'll kill you if you've been smoking again."_

_"I haven't been smoking," I lied._

_"Dude, you're the fucking worst liar in the universe," Emmett chuckled. "You think I can't smell the cigarettes on you?"_

_"Fine, I had one," I admitted._

_"One? What the hell have you been doing the rest of the time then?"_

_The recent memory of Bella's lips moving against mine, her tongue exploring my mouth, made my hard-on near painful now. I reached down and adjusted my jeans._

_"No way!" my brother exclaimed. "You were getting lucky, and you actually _stopped _to come here when I called you? You _are_ a dumb bastard."_

_"I wasn't getting lucky," I retorted, then added under my breath, "Yet."_

_"Well, since you've already left the girl, get the fuck in here and help me win this bet."_

_It turned out that Emmett had somehow managed to bring an unmarked CD to the party and he and Jacob Black couldn't agree on who the guitarist was. Jacob was convinced it was Steve Vai, but Emmett was sure that it was Joe Satriani. Fortunately for me, Emmett was right; my life would've been a living hell for the next several weeks if I'd had to vote against him._

_With the party now in full swing, I made the rounds, offering greetings to all my friends, and even a few people I didn't really know. I was practically a co-host at all of Mike's parties, not to mention one of the 'popular' kids, so I felt a sense of duty to make sure everyone was having a good time. When I'd finished the living room, I made my way through the doorway to the dining room, where there was a table full of red cups of beer. I grabbed one, downed it quickly, tossed it in the trash can next to the table, and grabbed another; with my second beer in hand, I moved swiftly to the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway separating the two rooms, pausing for a beat to check my watch. _Has it been half an hour yet? _I desperately wanted to get back to Bella._

_"Hi, Edward," a silky female voice greeted me._

_I glanced up and was met by none other than Tanya Denali. She wasn't my favorite person in the world, but I didn't have anything against her, either. Everyone expected us to be together, head cheerleader and starting quarterback, but I was never really attracted to her. She was pretty in a traditional way; long, wavy strawberry-blonde hair, crystal clear blue eyes, thin. But I preferred the more natural beauty of Bella. "Hi, Tanya," I replied, looking over her head around the kitchen. Everyone in there was already involved in conversation with someone else. _Shit! No one'll be able to pull her away. _I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to think of some way to extract myself from Tanya's clutches._

_"Great party," she said, batting her eyelashes at me._

_"Yeah, it's pretty good," I answered, still looking desperately for some excuse to leave._

_"You know why I come to these parties week after week?"_

_"Er, no, I don't." _And I don't really give a rat's ass why, but I'm sure you'll share anyway.

_As if she'd heard my thoughts, she spoke again. Or maybe she didn't hear my thoughts; maybe she thought I actually did care. I took another swig of my beer just as she said, "To see you. Outside of school, I mean." She batted her eyelashes again in a brazen attempt at flirting. I could have sworn I even saw her lips pucker just the tiniest bit, as if preparing for a kiss. I coughed and spluttered, dribbling my drink all over my gray t-shirt; I was grateful none came out my nose. I thought I knew what she was getting at with a comment like that. I was popular, and so was she; no one could understand why I'd never shown any interest in her, including my parents. She was trying to win my affections. _Too bad they already belong to someone else.

_"Listen, Tanya, I get what you're saying, and I'm flattered, but I'm just not interested."_

_"What?" Her voice was nothing short of shocked. I got the impression that she wasn't turned down very often, if ever._

_"Look, I'm sure you're a very nice girl, but—"_

_She cut me off. "What do you mean, you think I'm a nice girl? Did you not get what I was just doing? I was _flirting _with you, Edward, and pretty shamelessly, if you ask me. Nice girls don't do that. In fact, nice girls don't come to parties like this at all."_

_I disagreed with her there; Bella was a nice girl, and she was here. Hell, Bella was a nice girl, and she'd made out with me, with the promise of doing it again in… I glanced at my watch again. _Shit! _I was supposed to have met her already! "I'm sorry, Tanya. I'm supposed to meet someone."_

_I tried to step around her, but she moved with me in a kind of intricate dance that didn't seem to go with the music that was playing in the other room. "Bella Swan, right?"_

_I was glad I didn't have another mouthful of beer; I would surely have lost it just like I had my last drink. How the hell did she know who I was supposed to meet? I ignored her and stepped to the side. Like before, she anticipated my movement and blocked me in. Why couldn't I ditch her? She was really starting to get on my nerves._

_"I think I saw Bella with Mike just a few minutes ago." Tanya was clearly taunting me now. There was no flippin' way Bella was with Mike. We'd been getting along great until my shit for brains brother started yelling at me._

_Still ignoring her, I finally managed to step around her. I hurried back out to the spot I'd been with Bella before Emmett and Jake had started yelling at me. Tanya was hot on my heels. I wanted to tell her to beat it, but I didn't really care much at this point; I just wanted to see Bella again. I rounded the corner of the shed, and right where I'd been kissing her less than an hour ago, Mike fucking Newton was doing the same. It looked like he was getting luckier than I had, too. He had her backed up against the shed, much the same way I had, and her left leg was hitched up on his right hip. Her hands were shoved in his hair, holding him close to her face. His hand was up her shirt, and_ _a sliver of skin across her midsection was showing. He was obviously groping her breast._

_I wanted to turn away, but I couldn't; it was like a car wreck. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. She ground her hips against him in a very sexual way. I felt like I'd been kicked in the balls. I had no breath left in my lungs, and I sank to the ground slowly, dropping my head into my hands. The last thing I remember was Tanya's arms wrapping around my shoulders._

**~SN~**

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**A/N: We'd love to hear your thoughts and theories on what happened that long ago night. Is all as it seems?**

**For those who are interested... Wendy (wmr1601) writes EPOV, SaritaDreaming writes BPOV, but we spend a **_**lot **_**of time brainstorming and sharing back and forth.**

**Chapters should be posted faster than SaritaDreaming's other stories (Sarita looks the other way and whistles), since we are several chapters ahead on this story, and there are two of us writing it—which helps. We don't have a set in stone posting schedule, but you can expect new chapters every 1-2 weeks. Thanks so much for reading! Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter.**

**In other news...**

**Wendy (wmr1601) has her own blog where you can find out about her upcoming solo projects: www . wmr1601 . wordpress . com**

**For more of Wendy's stories and information you can check out her profile, wmr1601, or her collab profile with Caz at wmrcaz.**

**Sarita's blog is: www . saritadreaming . wordpress . com **

**Sarita is working on several multi-chapter stories and fandom gives back projects which are listed on this profile.**

**Join us on Twitter! (at) SaritaDreaming (at) wmr1601**


	3. Chapter 2 Crush

**A/N: Hello, everyone! We just wanted to let you all know how thrilled we are by the response to this story so far. Reviews run the gamut from the frustrated, to the confused, to the disbelieving and back again. Many of the answers you seek about the past will be revealed in this chapter.**

**Mega thanks to our friends and pre-readers, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for their invaluable input and to Jess (jkane180), for the awesome beta job. Mwah!**

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**Chapter 2**

**~ Crush ~**

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**~*Bella*~**

Coming back to my senses, I hear the scuffle of shoes on the front steps of the church and the snick of a lighter; the fact that I can hear the person in question blow out a plume of smoke clues me in that I'm too close. Afraid I'll be noticed before I'm ready to be, I walk around behind the church. Pressing my back to the white clapboard, I breathe a sigh of relief. I grab hold of the cold metal railing that runs around the steps to the basement in an attempt to hold myself to the present, to remain focused. Being back in Forks—and the reason I've come—is bringing up all kind of thoughts and feelings inside me. Now that I know the truth, I'm shocked and disappointed that I ever fell for the lies—that Edward fell for them.

Gazing at my surroundings, I notice that the church backs up to woods. There's a weathered picnic table in the small patch of grass between the building and the trees, along with a small garden that looks like it's been tended with love. I smile to myself, thankful that the parking lot is on the other side of the church, and I don't have to worry too much about being seen here.

I glance down at my watch; fifteen minutes to show time. I hear a murmur of voices coming from a window on the other side of the stairs and move closer so I can hear better. At first, the strong breeze seems to spirit the voices away, but as the wind dies down, it's as if they're amplified.

"It's not too late until you say the words."

"I asked her, Em..." I don't hear the rest because my heart is pounding in my ears. The second voice belongs to _Edward_. I would know it anywhere; its velvety softness pours over me like warm honey, eliciting tingles in all the right places. I realize it's been four years since I've heard his voice, and I feel tears prick at my eyes. I _need _to see him; it's a sudden compulsion that I can't restrain, and I lean around the edge of the window frame, peeking carefully through the filmy curtains.

"...it will destroy _you_." I catch the tail end of Emmett's hushed words, and I wonder what he's talking about. It's probably the first time I've ever heard Emmett Cullen speak softly, and despite the seriousness of the situation, a smile tugs at my lips.

I can see Emmett, but I can't see Edward, and it frustrates me. The two of them come together in a hug, and I'm able to see Edward's arm and a flash of his bronze hair. My breath catches, and I press a hand over my wildly beating heart, flattening myself against the wall again.

"_Edward_," I whisper as pain flares deep inside me.

A woman whose voice I don't recognize seems to be perturbed that Edward isn't ready yet. After her speech is over, I hear feet shuffle along the floor past the window, and I dare to peek in again.

Edward grabs a tux from where it hangs on a hook. As he lifts it away, I see that underneath it are brightly colored drawings made by Sunday School children. The cheerfulness of the pictures wields a power that nearly doubles me over with the knowledge of how miserable I've been since that fateful night, and I wonder if I will leave here alone today. I question if it's right to destroy Edward's happiness; for all I know, he's truly in love with Tanya and will hate me by the end of this day.

And then he turns... and I see his handsome face for the first time in_ four years_. I'm riveted to the spot, and even if he should turn his head and spot me, I know I'm unable to move away. His emerald eyes are troubled, and his brow wrinkles into a V. What could possibly be bothering him on his wedding day? I lean in even closer, examining his features. As he moves slowly past the window, his body is tense and his jaw ticks—a sure sign that Edward is stressing. Could it be that he isn't as happy about marrying Tanya as everyone thinks? I shake my head; that could all be wishful thinking on my part; maybe the man is just nervous about getting married.

Now that Edward is out of my sight again, I fall back against the wall, breathing hard. I allow my eyes to slip closed as another memory assaults me...

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I sigh, cursing that memory. To this day, I can't understand what made her act that way. I force myself to think about something else, anything else. The only thing I can come up with is focusing on my attire. But even that isn't horribly complicated. I pull my pants on and tuck in the button-down white shirt. The ties are the pre-tied kind, making the tux even easier to assemble.

As I sit in one of the children's chairs, I glance once more toward the single window in the room. I catch a glimpse of mahogany-colored hair, a specific shade that I've only ever seen on one person in my entire life. _Bella. _My heart clenches at the idea that she might be here. I haven't seen her in… how long? At least four years. I scoff at myself for even entertaining such ideas; there's no way she's here. She doesn't even know I'm getting married, much less the specific time and place of the wedding. I close my eyes for two seconds, clearing my mind. When they reopen, I've found the resolve not to investigate the glint of brown that I saw—that I _thought _I saw; I know I have to be wrong about that.

As I pull on my thin, black socks, I'm glad no one's approached me since Emmett walked away five minutes ago. I don't have the stamina for another conversation like that one right now; although, Emmett is the only one who has even an inkling of an idea where my mind is. I've done a good job of keeping my trepidations under control for the past year. Until today, I'd even had myself convinced. But, before today, everything was still hypothetical. Now, it's go time. There's no more backing out; I've waited too long.

My mind drifts back to the brown glimmer I saw from the window just a moment ago. I wonder what I would do if Bella really were here today. I know that it's a long shot—beyond a long shot, really—it's an impossibility. The thought remains, though. And then, as if I needed a reason to forget about Bella once and for all, another memory from high school invades my brain…

**~SN~**

**~*Bella*~**

_On Saturday, I'd woken up around noon in my own bed, still fully dressed. Rubbing a hand over my face, I lifted my head only to feel a shooting pain rip through it. "Ow." I lay there for a while trying to make sense of things, but my memory of Friday night was extremely fuzzy after the part where Edward left me by the shed with a promise to meet up in thirty minutes._

_Once the jabbing pain in my head had stabilized, I reached for the glass of water on my nightstand; I had a serious case of dry mouth. As I dragged the glass toward me, a slip of paper floated off the top of the nightstand and fluttered to the floor. Blindly, I felt around until I snagged it. It was from Mike._

Bella,

Your dad wasn't here when I got you home, so I used your keys to get us in the house. I put you in bed and covered you—I didn't want your dad to find out how drunk you were since he's the police chief and all. I promise I didn't do anything inappropriate. You're probably going to have a major headache when you wake up, so here's my grandpa's favorite hangover remedy. See you Monday.

Mike

_I followed the instructions Mike left, and I did feel better. The memories of Friday night were still a blur. No more drinking for me._

_On the Monday after Mike's party, I arrived at school with some trepidation. The weekend had been spent berating myself for getting so snockered that I never got the chance to meet up with Edward. I didn't have his phone number to call and apologize, and I wondered what he must think of me._

_When I arrived at school, I headed over to Edward's locker; I wanted to clear things up between us and apologize as soon as humanly possible. As I turned the corner, I couldn't believe what I saw: Edward slouched back against his locker with _Tanya Denali _wrapped around him. Edward had one leg bent, resting his foot against the metal door, and Tanya was pressed up against him with her hands inside his tight black t-shirt. Edward's arms were around her, his hands rubbing up and down her back, and his tongue was practically down her throat._

_I was frozen to the spot, openly staring at them with my mouth gaping open like a fish. The moment seemed so intimate, and I felt like such a voyeur—but he was just kissing _me_ like that on Friday night! He told me he'd wanted to kiss me since the first time he saw me blush! Was it all just a lie?_

_As if sensing that he was being stared at, Edward's head came up, and his eyes met mine. The green of his eyes seemed to darken and harden somehow. Tanya turned her head to see what the intrusion was and smirked at me, pulling a hand from beneath his shirt to touch his cheek, turning his face back to her. She whispered something I couldn't hear, and then Edward leaned down and kissed her deeply, his eyes fluttering closed._

_I ran._

_By the time I got to Biology class, I was determined to get some kind of answer. Throughout the day, I'd gotten glimpses of Edward walking in the halls hand-in-hand with Tanya, and my heart broke into a million pieces over and over again._

_Sitting down at our lab table, I glanced at Edward, who was just staring forward into space._

_"Edward?"_

_"What?" he snapped, refusing to look my way._

_"Don't you think we should talk... about the party?"_

_"What for?"_

_"What for? I mean, something happened..." I faltered._

_"Yeah, well, sometimes a kiss is just a fucking kiss, huh, Bella? Not every hook-up has to mean something earth shattering."_

_"I... guess so. So, you're okay with that?"_

_"Sure. It was a party; we'd had a bit to drink."_

_"But... the things you said to me, Edward."_

_"Forget them. People say shit."_

_It felt as though he'd stuck his hand inside me, ripped my heart out, and was hefting it in his hand as he prepared to throw it down and stomp on it. Friday night meant nothing to him? Nothing at all? I knew I'd had a bit to drink, but I didn't think I'd so thoroughly misread his cues._

_"Are you angry with me, Edward?"_

_"No, Bella. We just don't run in the same circles; maybe it's best we stick to being biology partners, okay?"_

_"S-sure."_

_Edward Cullen never looked me in the eye again._

_A few months later, we graduated. I heard that Edward and Tanya were both accepted to Dartmouth—I'd never pegged Tanya as being smart enough to get in there, but I also never expected Edward to be with someone as shallow as her, either. The two of them were still a couple, and they apparently got their own apartment instead of living in the dorms. How cozy._

_Mike Newton was still chasing after me, and the summer after graduation—when I found out we would both be attending the same college in Florida—I decided to give him a chance. After all, the man I truly loved was with someone else..._

**~SN~**_  
_

**~*Edward*~**

_"You know Bella's liked Mike for ages, right?" Tanya whispered as she held me in the Newtons' backyard._

_I couldn't accept her words; I just couldn't. The memory of the kisses I'd shared with Bella and Tanya's words didn't add up to anything that made sense in my pain-clouded brain. Sure, Bella was buzzed, and so was I, but honestly, you can't just fake that kind of sincerity. She was really into me, or so I thought. I couldn't reconcile her behavior now with what we'd shared less than an hour before._

_"Edward?" I winced at Tanya's voice. I realized that maybe I shouldn't be cringing away from the one person who was there for _me _right now. I needed someone to lean on, and frankly, beggars can't be choosers, so I listened to Tanya._

_"She likes him?" I managed to rasp out. My voice sounded like I'd been crying; I raised my hand to my face and brought it back slightly damp. _How embarrassing, _I thought, pressing my palms against my eyes to regain some sort of control over myself._

_"She's always liked him," Tanya told me, sounding very matter-of-fact. "Actually, I talk to her in Trig class sometimes, and she told me just this afternoon that she's never liked anyone else in town. She was just saying last week that she'd always wanted to come to one of his parties and just never had the gumption to actually show up. I convinced her to come to this one tonight, so she could have her shot at Mike. And she did."_

_I decided then and there that I wasn't going to be bothered with someone who didn't want me. I didn't know what kind of game Bella was playing, but I wasn't going to be a willing participant. I took a deep breath to steady myself and stop the tears—the last thing I needed was for Emmett to see me crying—and rose from the ground. I didn't feel better, not at all, but I felt determined. If Bella didn't want to be with me, then there was no point in pining over her any longer; six months was long enough. "Thanks for telling me that, Tanya," I murmured._

_Her eyes widened in what couldn't be described as anything short of glee. "You know who does like you, though?"_

_I sighed. I did know. Tanya liked me. I didn't like her that way, though. _But the one you _do _like isn't interested. _"Sure, what the hell?" I said. "Come on; let's go."_

_I led Tanya back into Mike's house, where we found a secluded corner and spent the rest of the party together. She turned out not to be bad company, either. She was no Bella, but she was okay. I drove her home after the party, and the rest, as they say, is history._

_When Tanya called me the next day, I was less than thrilled. I still didn't see her as girlfriend material necessarily, but I reminded myself that I needed to somehow move past my infatuation with Bella. And the best way I could think of to do that was to find another girl. I didn't like that I was using Tanya—and I recognized that I was doing just that—but she seemed to be a willing participant, so I pushed my insecurities away. When I invited her over, she accepted my invitation readily and had arrived at my house within half an hour of the phone call. I introduced her to my parents, and then we went for a walk in the woods behind the white church in downtown Forks. We ended up finding a secluded tree and making out all afternoon. It wasn't the worst time of my life, but it wasn't the best, either._

_Monday morning, I arrived at school early, and Tanya found me almost immediately. It had only been a couple of days, but I was starting to get used to her. I was at a place where I could see her becoming somewhat of a steady in my life, at least for a while. I'd barely had time to climb out of my car before she was all over me: her fingers flirting with the hem of my black t-shirt, her face close to mine; she was even starting a slow, seductive grind of her hips against me. The last thing I needed right now was a hard-on, so I immediately turned my thoughts to last week's football game and gently pried Tanya off of my body. Fortunately for me, she promptly complied with my silent request._

_"Good morning," she purred._

_I couldn't help but smile. It felt good to be paid attention to, and I wondered why I'd never been drawn to Tanya before. She was a good fit for me. "Morning," I replied. I took the initiative and grabbed her hand, intertwining her fingers in mine, and held it firmly all the way into the school. We went first to her locker, where she dropped off her bag and kept only the book she'd need for her first class, and then I led her to my locker. There was still a good ten minutes before first period started, and I'd kind of grown accustomed to kissing Tanya over the weekend. It was now something I craved on some level. I removed her science book from her hand and placed it on the top shelf of my locker, shoved my own book bag in there, and shut the narrow, gray door. I leaned back against it, propping one foot on the steel, and pulled Tanya toward me. I wrapped my arms around her, trailing my hands up and down her back as I scooted down the locker a little to be closer to her height. Her hands were no longer simply _flirting_ with my hem; they found their way inside my shirt, and she lightly scraped her nails along my abs. It was a new sensation for me, and a wholly enjoyable one. My eyes closed as our lips met, and while there was no 'spark,' there was still something there. I could feel her affection for me radiating off of her; it was almost palpable. I liked that feeling._

_Suddenly, there was something else in the air—something I'd felt before; a crackle of electricity. Recognizing the source of said electricity, I opened my eyes and pulled back from Tanya, looking over her shoulder. Just as I suspected, Bella was standing a mere ten feet away, staring at us with a look of pure shock, or maybe horror; it was hard to tell. I almost felt bad for her, but then I remembered her lie from the party. _She'd_ been the one to lead _me_ on. She'd been the one just using me to make Mike jealous. I set my jaw and narrowed my eyes, silently telling her that she was not going to make me feel bad about being with Tanya. Maybe I was being petty and childish; I didn't know, and frankly, I didn't care. I wanted happiness, and at the age of eighteen, I'd take it anywhere I could get it. I couldn't get it from Bella; she wanted Mike Newton. So, I settled for Tanya Denali instead._

That memory hurts worse than the previous one. I look around the Sunday School room again, remembering where I am. I blink back tears and search for another, happier memory.

_It was spring of our junior year at Dartmouth; I was studying business, and Tanya was studying elementary education. We'd been together ever since the party at Mike's, and we were very happy. We'd gotten an apartment together instead of moving into the dorms, and life was good. I was ready to take the next step, though. While Tanya had started out as a rebound from Bella, I'd grown to love her over the past three years. We were inseparable, save for when we were actually in class, and I was ready to make things 'official.'_

_I bought the ring from a small, independently-owned jewelry shop close to campus; it wasn't extravagant, but it was what I could afford. I was sure that Tanya wouldn't be caught up on the size of the diamond. I spent hours on the phone with my dad and my brother almost every night (after Tanya went to bed) leading up to the 'big night.' My family liked Tanya and gave me all the support and assurance I needed. Emmett even told me the story of how he'd proposed to his wife, Rosalie, and said that although it had started as the most terrifying moment of his life, it had ended up being the best. I took comfort in that. I was making the right decision._

_I took her to a fancy restaurant, pulling out all the stops, and arranged for a very cliché proposal. I was twenty-one and used the occasion to purchase my very first bottle of champagne. I slipped the ring to the waiter along with a hushed request to slip it into Tanya's glass before bringing it out. Because I was a nervous wreck, I kept eyeing her glass all through the meal, wondering if she'd notice it. She never did. At one point, though, she asked me what was wrong, and I lied, telling her that nothing was going on. When the waiter brought the bill, she still hadn't noticed the ring; I had no idea how she'd been so unobservant, but she had. Now, the meal was over, and it was time to make clear my intentions. I reached across the table and confiscated her glass, pulling it over to my side of the table. I lifted it to my lips and downed the remainder of her champagne in one gulp, catching the unnoticed ring in between my lips, not allowing it to slip into my mouth. _

_"Edward!" Tanya hissed, looking at me like I was insane. "What the hell are you doing?"_

_I lifted my right hand to my mouth, deposited the ring into my palm, and then held my hand out for her to see. Her eyes popped and she gasped as she realized what was happening. I rose from my chair and walked around the small table to where she was sitting, dumbfounded. "Tanya, you've always been there for me, whenever I've needed you. I've grown to love you very much over the past three years, and I want to nurture that growth for many more years. Will you marry me?"_

**~SN~**

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**A/N: Many answers have been revealed, although there are still more to come. Misunderstandings abound, leading Edward and Bella in directions neither of them ever imagined. Would love to hear your thoughts on the developing story...**

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter. Please note that if you have PMs disabled, you won't be able to receive review replies/teasers.**

**Just a reminder...**

**Wendy (wmr1601) has her own blog where you can find out about her upcoming solo projects: www . wmr1601 . wordpress . com**

**For more of Wendy's stories and information you can check out her profile, wmr1601, or her collab profile with Caz at wmrcaz.**

**Sarita's blog is: www . saritadreaming . wordpress . com **

**Sarita is working on several multi-chapter stories and fandom gives back projects which are listed on this profile.**

**If you're a reader of '**_**I Want It Painted Black**_**,' aside from the regular chapter being released this week, there will also be an outtake starring Rosalie and Emmett added to '**_**Jack's Playroom**_**' (Jack the Dom outtakes from IWIPB, listed as a separate story on Sarita's profile) that's been written by the talented TwilightGuru09. She writes some **_**spanktacular**_** stories. *****wink* If you're interested in a little D/s, put Jack on alert.**

**Join us on Twitter! (at) SaritaDreaming (at) wmr1601**


	4. Chapter 3 Help

**A/N: Welcome back everyone! We're really excited about the positive response to this story, and you've all been really patient as we slowly reveal what's happening. More pieces of the puzzle lie ahead...**

**Thanks to our pre-readers, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for their invaluable input and friendship. To the best beta in the West, Jess (jkane180), a huge collection of Damon pOrn. Mwah!**

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**Chapter 3**

**~Help~**

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**~*Bella*~**

It's nearly time. I've come all this way, and I can't allow cold feet to get the better of me. If Edward marries Tanya, I know it will be for good—Edward is a forever kind of guy. Instinctively, I know that finding out the truth _after _the nuptials will render any claim I might have on him null and void. This is it; my one and only chance to right the wrongs of the past four years. A shudder runs through me at the thought that if Mike hadn't 'fessed up, I might never have known the truth. My life lost much of its color when Edward turned away from me; I've been living a sepia-toned life, just going through the motions, and hadn't fully realized it until fairly recently.

Peeking around the corner, I see the coast is clear. I hurry to the front steps of the little white church, and I ask God's forgiveness for what I'm about to do. My heels make sharp clicks on the stone steps, and I grasp the ornate, brushed metal handle of one of the huge wooden doors and pull it open. Easing inside, the atmosphere transforms as a pressurized hush settles over my body when the door swings closed. I look around the dimly lit vestibule, and this place _feels _holy. Again, I fear angering God because I'm about to throw His house into disarray with my very presence. The intricate, dark woodwork and stained glass is so beautiful, and I wish I had time to fully appreciate it, but time is of the essence. I step forward, and my heels click on the slate floor, throwing echoes all around me; I'm immediately reminded of the 'Tell-Tale Heart' and feel exposed even though there's nobody here to see me.

Organ music starts to play, and I know the time is near. I approach the double doors to the inner sanctuary of the church, pulling one open a crack so I can see inside. It's beautiful, with rich, dark wooden pews, soft, butter-yellow walls and a magnificent, yet understated, altar. There are filmy, white gossamer bows on the end of each pew going up the center aisle, and a white runner has been laid out for the bride to travel down as she moves toward her beloved. Too bad _this_ bride is a phony, and if I have my say, she will never touch Edward Cullen again after this day.

The groomsmen file out of a side door next to the altar, and my breath catches as I see Edward in all his finery. He makes such a handsome groom, and my heart clenches painfully as he smiles at someone. That lopsided smile has haunted me for the past four years, and it will continue to do so for the rest of my days... I just hope it will turn my way at some point—that he won't hate me for this. Edward shivers, and he looks straight at me... his green eyes are blazing in their intensity, and I gasp, afraid he's spotted me. But no; I'm peeking through a crack in the door, and there's no way he can see me. Yet he continues to stare at the doors, and then I see a wistful look come over his face, almost sad, before he shakes his head slightly and turns to answer something Emmett whispers in his ear.

I debate whether I should just stay where I am until it's time or if I should sit in the back and try to blend in with the crowd. I'm exposed here, and if someone should walk in, they can't miss me standing around like a Peeping Tom. Looking to the left, I see last pew has a few seats left. There's an elderly couple that I don't recognize sitting three quarters of the way down the row. I wonder how to get there without Edward or someone else in the bridal party seeing me. I investigate another door all the way at the end of the vestibule that leads to a coat check room, which has another door on the opposite end. Opening the door a crack, I peer out into a long hallway with several doors along the left side, but only one door to the right. I suspect the hall leads to the bridal rooms, and the single door will lead into the church sanctuary. The door is open a few inches, and I hear organ music coming from beyond it as I get closer. Peeking out, I see that it's only a few feet from where I am to the seat I was hoping to snag. At that moment, a latecomer opens the center doors, heading off to the right, and as everyone's eyes turn their way, I slide quickly into the pew. The elderly woman smiles at me, and I blush as I return her greeting. She probably assumes that I'm blushing for slipping in late, but she has no idea what's really going to happen here today.

The organ music stops, and the silence in the church is almost deafening. There's a feeling of expectancy in the air, and after another minute or so the organist begins playing Pachelbel. All eyes are riveted on a door to the right rear of the church as the bridesmaids slowly make their way across the back row and start their walk up the center aisle. I don't recognize the first few girls, with the exception of Kate, but they're reminiscent of Tanya—pretty, painted Barbie dolls that look like they stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. The last one to come out takes me by surprise; she's much shorter than the rest, and her hair is jet black. Like Edward's, her hair has a mind of its own, and she's always gone with it. Alice Cullen still sports the short, spiky, pixie-like 'do that's always suited her so well; the only addition is the jewel-encrusted barrettes that sweep her hair back over each ear. Alice was always kind to me, even after my falling out with Edward, and several times it seemed as though she wanted to say something to me about him, but she never did. I do recall the scathing looks she had for Tanya when she thought nobody was watching, though.

I'm so lost in my reverie that it takes me a few seconds to realize I'm making eye contact with Alice. She looks straight at me without surprise, almost as if she's been expecting me, and a small smile tugs at her lips. Adrenaline shoots through my veins, and my heart begins to pound wildly—so hard that I'm sure those around me will hear it. Alice's gaze captures mine for another beat as she rounds the back row to walk up the center aisle, and just before the spell is broken, she _winks_ at me. I know it's ridiculous, but I feel as though somehow she knows exactly why I'm here, and she approves.

Once the bridesmaids reach the altar and take their places, the organ music segues into The Wedding March with a flourish. The entire congregation of family and friends stands, and I stand with them, grateful for the coverage that a few tall people in the aisles in front of me provide. Everyone's eyes are now riveted on the door the bridesmaids entered from, and there's a collective sigh as Tanya appears in the doorway, escorted by a handsome man that looks almost too young to be her father. Tanya preens as she steps forward, basking in the adulation of everyone's eyes on her. If I was the bride, my eyes would be seeking out only one thing—_Edward_.

Tanya does the typical bridal walk up the aisle until she's standing before Reverend Weber, Angela's father. Regret fills me when I think of Angela—she was a good friend to me, but when I left for Florida, I wrote her off along with everyone else from Forks, with the exception of Mike. I thought a clean break was what I needed to move on and have a life without any reminders of Edward. I was thwarted at every turn because so many things seemed to remind me of him. The worst was when I was out in public and saw someone that sauntered like Edward did, maybe wearing a leather jacket like the one he always wore, and my heart would beat double-time until I realized it wasn't him—then my heart would just ache. It was after one of these times that I finally decided that what I was doing wasn't fair to Mike. I didn't love Mike; I couldn't make a commitment to him. My heart belonged to Edward Cullen, and I feared it always would. As Reverend Weber's voice began to drone on, I lost myself in the memory of how I came to find out the truth...

_One hot summer night, I waited in the darkness of the front porch for Mike. He was whistling as he came up the front walk, and he nearly went right past without noticing me. As he fitted the key into the lock, his head suddenly turned my way. "Bella? Is that you, hon?"_

_"Yeah." My heart was heavy, and I felt a lump form in my throat. How was I supposed to hurt Mike this way?_

_Mike trudged over and fell onto the glider beside me, tossing an arm around my shoulders. "What's up? Why're you sitting out here in the dark?"_

_"Mike... I, uh – we need to talk."_

_"Shit, this sounds serious."_

_"It is." I took his hand in mine, turning toward him slightly. "Mike, I've tried to have a life here, and you've been so very good to me – " I faltered, looking down at our joined hands._

_"But?"_

_"What I'm doing isn't fair to you. I like you—I really do—but I don't love you. My heart belongs to someone else."_

_"You're cheating on me?" Mike's voice registered shock._

_"No! God, no, Mike. I would never do something like that. It's nobody around here."_

_"Someone back in Forks," Mike stated flatly. There was no question in his tone, and I think he probably knew who I was referring to._

_"Yes. It doesn't matter because he doesn't love me, but unless I get over him, I just can't be with anyone else. Please understand, Mike; you don't deserve that."_

_Pulling away from me, Mike dropped his head into his hands with a deep sigh. "Yeah, I do."_

_"No! Mike, you're a wonderful guy – "_

_"Stop it! Just stop." Mike held a hand up as though to ward off my words. "Bella, I have something to tell you, too."_

_"What is it?"_

_"Four years ago, I did something horrible—unforgivable. I knew it was wrong, but I went along with it anyway because of my feelings for you. She convinced me that it would all work out in the end… that you would fall in love with me once you were away from... him."_

_I gasped, starting to get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. "No. Please, Mike, no."_

_"I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I am. Maybe I can help you now though, Bella. Come inside with me." Mike got up, grabbing my hand and tugging me to my feet. In shock, I followed him up to our second floor apartment where he proceeded to rummage around in his closet. "Got it!" he yelled out, holding something up in the air._

_Mike took my hand in his and placed a small recorder in my palm. His blue eyes met mine, and they were full of remorse and self-loathing._

_"Mike, what's this?"_

_He leaned in close and placed a kiss on my cheek. Keeping his face alongside mine, he whispered in my ear, "Proof."_

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I'm not sure whether that memory is really any happier than the one before it. _It is, _I tell myself. It may not be the happiest memory in my arsenal, but it's definitely better than watching Bella watch me kiss Tanya at school after the party. The wedding planner waltzes into the room again. I can't help but wonder if she has anything else to do. Surely there are other people for her to irritate today. I sigh again. It feels like all I'm doing today is sighing. "It's show time, gentlemen," the planner sings, clapping twice to get our attention, as if there's any ignoring her. She has a presence like no other woman I've ever come in contact with. Her voice grates on my nerves as I watch her flit from man to man, straightening ties and patting backs, declaring each of my groomsmen 'ready to go.' She sends them to line up by the door like children.

I'm the last one she approaches. "Looks like you finally decided to get dressed, and just in the nick of time," she says.

"Yeah," I mutter.

Just like my friends and brother before me, she straightens my tie, gives me a once over, and approves of my appearance. It's a good thing she does because I feel like I might just strangle her if she gives me any grief. When I join my groomsmen, the woman stands before us, giving final instructions. "All right, guys, here's how this is going to work. You'll all gather in the Reverend's office, which, as you know, has a door leading directly onto the platform. The music will start, and the five of you plus Reverend Weber will file onto the stage. The bridesmaids will enter from the back, just like in rehearsal last night, and then, finally, Tanya will join you. From there, it should be smooth sailing. Edward, all you have to do is what the Reverend instructs you to do. You barely even have to think." She laughs at herself as if she's just told the funniest joke in the history of the world. When no one else joins her, she sobers quickly and leads us to the Reverend's office.

He's there waiting for us; according to the clock on the wall, we have two minutes before the ceremony is scheduled to begin. The Reverend reaches out and offers me his hand and a greeting. "How are you, Edward? Ready to take the biggest step of your life?"

His words catch me off guard. I knew I was making a commitment, and one I didn't intend to break. I wouldn't have asked Tanya to marry me a year ago if I hadn't been sure of my ability to keep the vows we would make today. At the same time, I still wish he hadn't used the term 'the biggest step.' I'm not sure it applies here. I think the biggest step was turning my back on Bella, not letting her explain herself when she implored me to in high school biology class. The biggest step was promising myself I'd never look in her eyes again, and then keeping that promise, even though it felt like I had a hole punched in my chest every time I avoided her. And the biggest step of all was moving to New Hampshire and going to Dartmouth when I knew Bella was moving to Florida. Marrying Tanya today will feel like small potatoes compared to losing Bella.

I don't tell Reverend Weber any of this. Instead, I shake his hand and say, "Yes, sir, I am."

"You're a good man, Edward. I don't see many as young as you that I'm comfortable marrying. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and I know that this commitment is one you intend to keep. I'm honored that you've come here to make it."

"Thank you, sir."

The wedding planner from hell returns and informs us that the organ music will be starting in about ten seconds. It's time. My time is up.

My three groomsmen file onto the stage, followed by my best man and brother, Emmett. I walk close behind him, and Reverend Weber is right behind me. We all take our positions, which have been marked on the floor for us using small scraps of masking tape. There are matching pieces on the other side of the stage, waiting for Tanya's bridesmaids to take their places. I look out at the crowd, and recognize several friends from high school—people I haven't seen in four years. Tyler Crowley and Jessica Stanley are sitting together in the third row back, and I smile at them. I remember hearing that they took the plunge a few months ago and married each other. They invited Tanya and me to the wedding, but she didn't wanted to make the trip home, and I didn't want to leave her alone three thousand miles away from me. I smile at them, glad they've made it here today. I look forward to talking to them at the reception later.

Something catches my eye; the door in the back of the room is ajar. I gaze at the crack between the doors, and my heart stops. There's a single brown eye staring at me through it. _But that's not possible. _I continue to stare, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing, and I can't. I feel my eyes narrow at the slit in the door, and there's only one word in my mind: _Bella. _But like the brown hair I imagined outside earlier, I know I must be imagining this eye. My heart clenches as I realize just how much I miss her. I shake my head slightly and force myself back to the present. Emmett leans in close to me and whispers, "You haven't said the words yet, Edward. You still have time." His voice is barely audible, even to me, and his lips are practically touching my ear.

I turn my head a little, not enough to cause a commotion, just enough so that I can whisper back to my brother. "I don't though; I told you this already. I can't let Tanya down."

With the six of us men in place—my four attendants, the reverend, and me—the organist changes the tune to the one Tanya chose for her bridesmaids to walk down the aisle to—Pachelbel's Canon in D, a very traditional wedding song. Tanya wanted a traditional wedding, and since she agreed to come back to Forks to marry me—even though I knew she didn't want to—I let her have her way on every other detail of this wedding. I watch as Tanya's three sisters—first, her maid of honor, Kate; then Irina and Carmen—make their way down the aisle. My little sister Alice is the final bridesmaid, and it took a lot of convincing to get Tanya to let her be there. She wanted one of her friends from college, Heidi, but I not-so-eloquently reminded her that I was letting her have her way on everything besides the venue and Alice. She finally caved.

I watch my sister stand calmly at the back of the church, waiting her turn to walk down the aisle. I think this is the first time I've ever seen Alice do anything calmly. She's normally so hyper that she makes overactive kittens look calm—more specifically, overactive kittens that have gotten into a bag of catnip. But not today. Today, she's actually acting like a grown-up. I'm proud of Alice as I watch her. She looks to her left, and her eyes lock on someone I can't see from my position. There are too many tall people in the closer rows, and the object of Alice's gaze is hidden. With Kate and Carmen in position and Irina halfway down the aisle, it's Alice's turn to begin her approach. She walks elegantly around the back pew and holds the mystery person's gaze as she takes her first few steps down the center aisle. Just before she breaks eye contact, I swear I see a smile playing at the corner of her lips. Not a normal smile, though; this smile is almost… mischievous. I watch Alice, silently questioning her with my eyes, but her expression gives nothing away beyond the 'I know something you don't' gleam.

I don't have time to try to decipher Alice's look anymore; the music has changed, and again, Tanya has chosen gone with the traditional choice: Wagner's Wedding March. I become a nine-year-old boy again as I hear the music and the words _Here comes the bride, All dressed in white _play through my head. I blink and force myself back to my twenty-two year old body. Tanya, the woman I've pledged my love to and asked to marry me, is sauntering down the aisle toward me.

And then she's not.

Now it's Bella—the one I truly love; the one I've loved since I was seventeen years old. It's mahogany hair underneath the veil and brown eyes gazing at me. Seeing Bella walking down the aisle gives me a sense of peace that I haven't felt in a year, ever since I proposed to Tanya. _Tanya! Shit! _What am I doing? I blink, and Bella disappears. _That's for the best; she lied to me. I need to keep my eye on the ball, and right now, the ball is Tanya. _I force myself to smile at my bride, and she grins back. Her smile looks very… possessive, almost malicious even. But of course, I'm imagining that as well; Bella's not here, and Tanya's not horrible.

Not horrible... but not what I want. _The one you want is a liar, though! _My eighteen-year-old self screams at me. _She led you on, made out with you at a party, all with the intention of getting into _his _pants. She didn't want you. Tanya did. Be happy with what you can get._

I cast another sideways glance at Alice as she stands on her assigned square of masking tape. She smirks at me, and I feel, again, like she has some sort of premonition. I feel butterflies in my stomach at her expression, and I can't shake them off. I find myself wondering whether the butterflies are all from the thoughts I can practically read in Alice's face, or something from within me. I suspect it might be the latter. Tanya and her father reach the altar and stop; Reverend Weber begins working his way through the pre-approved—by Tanya—speech. I take a deep breath and imagine a different scenario…

_Bella and I lie together on a beach somewhere sunny. I don't know where we are, and I don't really care. All that matters is that we're together. I turn my head on the beach towel and grip Bella's left hand in my right. My fingertips skirt across her knuckles, and I smile when I feel the diamond wedding set on her third finger. I wiggle the fingers on my left hand, and my smile expands when I feel my own wedding band shift against my skin._

_I look over at Bella and whisper, "I love you."_

_"I love you, too. It's always been you, Edward. I've always loved you."_

My throat clenches at the sound of Reverend Weber's voice, and I find myself thinking, _Someone please help me!_

**~SN~**

**A/N: More of the picture is revealed. There won't be many more flashbacks of the past in this story; we'll be moving forward. Next chapter is going to be the one you've all been clamoring for. A little Weddingus Interruptus. A hiccup in the nuptials. **

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter. Please note that if you have PMs disabled, you won't be able to receive review replies/teasers.**

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**If you're a reader of '**_**I Want It Painted Black**_**,' there will also be an outtake starring Rosalie and Emmett added to '**_**Jack's Playroom**_**' (Jack the Dom outtakes from IWIPB, listed as a separate story on Sarita's profile) that's been written by the talented TwilightGuru09. She writes some **_**spanktacular**_ **stories. *wink* If you're interested in a little D/s, put Jack on alert.**

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	5. Chapter 4 Wedding, Interrupted

**A/N: This is the chapter you've been waiting for! Buckle up, kids. We've been asked by a number of readers if this story will continue past the 'speak now' part. _Yes_, this will be a full length fic delving into the aftermath as well.**

**Huge thanks to our pre-readers, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for their invaluable input and friendship and to Jess (jkane180) for her beta skilz. Mwah!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**~Wedding, Interrupted~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

My memory of the conversation with Mike is interrupted by the sound of Edward's name.

"Do you, Edward, take Tanya to be your lawfully wedded wife..." Reverend Weber's voice continues on with the typical 'to have and to hold' rhetoric, but I tune him out—or, rather, the deafening roaring in my ears does. Time slows to a crawl, and I gaze around me to see if anyone else has noticed something unusual. The elderly couple sits contentedly beside me, and the woman pats the man on the arm and blushes. For some reason, this brings tears to my eyes, and I wonder what it would be like to grow old next to the one _I _love.

There is a brief silence, and then my heart clenches painfully when Edward responds softy, '_I do_.' Maybe it's just my imagination, but I think he hesitated for a few beats too long before answering. On some level, does Edward know what a lying skank Tanya is? My hand strays inside my handbag and curls around the cool plastic housing of the recorder that's nestled there. This is my proof—proof that I didn't betray Edward four years ago, and damning evidence in Tanya's own voice that _she _did. I'm so grateful that Mike told me about the wedding. He could have kept all of it to himself, but, in the end, he did what was right.

Sweat trickles down my spine, and my palms grow moist. My heart is raging in my chest, and my breathing is shallow. Preparing for my big moment, I slide slowly toward the end of the pew, ready to stand up. My fingers clench tightly to the side of the pew, and the bevel along the edge of the wood digs into my skin. I like the feeling because it helps hold me here in the present.

"If anyone knows a reason why this couple should not be wed, speak now... or forever hold your peace." Reverend Weber's voice holds a touch of amusement as he says this, looking between the still-happy couple.

_Forever hold your peace. Speak now... or forever hold your peace._

The words echo around in my mind as I stand on shaking legs and walk around behind the pew until I'm standing at the entrance of the center aisle.

Raising a hand, I say, "I know of a reason. Several reasons, actually." I'm proud that my voice sounds strong and steady even though my insides have turned to jelly, and I fear I might pass out.

There's a collective gasp from the congregation, and I hear the rustle of fabric as people turn to see who dared to disturb the wedding. But I don't see any of them because I have eyes only for the groom. Edward's head turns quickly, and his green eyes meet mine, widening in surprise. His mouth drops open slightly, and he pulls his hand out of Tanya's, leaving me to wonder if it was a conscious act at this point.

"Oh! How dare she!" Tanya shrieks.

The crowd is murmuring words such as, '_Who's she?' 'Isn't that Bella Swan?' _and _'What does she think she's doing?'_

I ignore it all as my gaze continues to remain fixed on Edward, whose expression seems to be running the gamut of emotions right now. I see disbelief, surprise, uncertainty, a glint of hope, and maybe... relief? I don't think I'm imagining the sense of relief that comes over his features—it's subtle, but it's there just the same.

Reverend Weber speaks up. "Young lady, are you aware of the gravity of what you're doing?" His voice is not unkind, but it's authoritative.

My eyes never leave Edward's—which are now riveted to mine—their green depths pulling me in the way they always have. Keeping my gaze on Edward's, I take a few steps forward as I answer, "Nobody is more aware of the _gravity_ of the situation than I am, Reverend Weber." My eyes flick over to Tanya for a brief moment before returning to Edward's handsome face. "Except maybe the bride."

Another gasp rises from the congregation, and Tanya's annoying voice cuts through the air. "Well, I never! Edward! Are you going to let this trollop just waltz in here and ruin my wedding? _Do something!_"

My feet keep going, bringing me closer to Edward, and I can feel the electricity crackling between us the way it always has. I thank God that it's still there, and I can tell from the look in his eyes that he feels it, too. When I'm only about five feet away from the bottom of the altar, looking up at Edward, he cocks his head to the side. "Bella," he whispers.

Tears fill my eyes then, and although I try to hold them back, one spills over and slides slowly down my cheek. "I'm sorry," I mouth at him—because I am—I'm sorry that he has to go through this.

I feel a hand on my arm and turn my head slightly to see Esme Cullen's sympathetic face beside me. "Perhaps this conversation would best be handled in private," she suggests gently.

"I agree." Reverend Weber nods.

"No!" Tanya's angry voice cuts through the soft murmuring of the crowd. "Get this slut out of here! What? Did Mike dump you, so you decided to try to ruin _my _happiness?"

"Tanya," Edward warns softly. "Don't make a scene."

"Me? What about the wedding crasher here?" Tanya starts down the steps of the altar straight for me. "You evil bitch! I'll destroy you for this," she seethes.

My eyes turn her way. "Haven't you already done enough destroying, Tanya? _You _want to talk about evil?" My voice remains quiet and steady, but now I lift the recorder out of my purse and hold it in the air.

"What the hell is that? I'll kill you, you jealous little – "

"Tanya, that's enough," Edward says firmly as he reaches out to grasp her arm, preventing her from coming any closer to me. His eyes meet mine again, and now there's a great deal of pain and confusion there. "What are you doing here? Why now?" he murmurs.

Esme steps up onto the altar and addresses the guests. "Everyone, we're going to have a bit of a delay. We'd appreciate your patience while we sort things out. Thank you." Then she leans in and whispers so only those in immediate proximity can hear. "All of you need to pull yourselves together. This wedding is not happening until we hear what Bella has to say. Let's go." Her tone leaves no room for argument, and even Tanya nods reluctantly.

Esme leads the way down the hall to one of the empty classrooms, and I recognize it as the one Edward was using to get ready just a short while ago. I move close to the window and rest my hands on the ledge, needing the fresh air. Tanya leans back against one of the desks with her arms folded, and Edward stays close to her but puts some distance between them.

Esme shuts the door, engaging the lock. "Now, we won't be disturbed. I expect all of you to comport yourselves like adults." She gazes around at each of us before her troubled green eyes land on me. "Bella, what's this all about? I trust that you wouldn't show up at my son's wedding unless you felt it was important."

"What?" Tanya begins incredulously, but one look from Esme shuts her down.

Edward stares down at the floor, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, and he shakes his head slightly, as if he can't believe this is happening.

"Bella?" Esme prods.

This is it; the moment of truth.

"I'm so sorry about the timing, but I just found out the truth recently. I've been living a lie, and I couldn't do it anymore. When I told Mike I couldn't be with him—and why—he told me the truth about something that happened four years ago. It's only fair that everyone involved knows the truth before... mistakes are made."

Edward is still staring at the floor, and I long to see his green eyes, to know what he's thinking. Tanya continues to stand with her arms crossed and a disgusted look on her face, but suddenly she doesn't appear to be as confident as before.

"What truth, Bella?" Esme asks gently.

"I mean no disrespect, Mrs. Cullen, but this is a conversation I need to have with Edward—_alone_."

Edward's head comes up, and his eyes meet mine. They're troubled, and there's a fear in the green depths that hurts my heart to see.

"No way!" Tanya hisses, glaring at me.

"It's not up to you, dear," Esme reminds her. "That decision belongs to my son."

Edward stares at me openly now, and I feel as though I'm being stripped bare. There's indecision on his face, and I need him to say yes. "Please, Edward," I whisper, and another tear spills over. I see Edward's fingers twitch, and I suspect he wants to wipe it away.

He looks up at the ceiling, as though the answers to life's questions might be found there. Without looking at any of us, he answers, "Yes. I'll listen."

"No, Edward!" Tanya yells, wrapping her hand around his bicep and digging her long talons into the fabric of his tux. "This is _my _day, and I'm not going to allow it."

Edward looks down at her, and his expression is unreadable as he peels her fingers off his arm. "_Ours_, Tanya. This is _our _day. I can't in good conscience marry you without hearing what Bella has to say. If you're innocent, then you have nothing to fear, right?"

Esme leads a crying Tanya from the room. Edward locks the door behind them, leaning his forehead against the polished wood. The room is pregnant with expectation, and I start to shake uncontrollably. I'm really here; I'm really doing this.

"Tell me, Bella. Tell me why you're here." Edward's voice is pained, and he continues to face the door rather than look at me.

"I'm here because four years ago, we were both lied to. I'm here because we never had a chance to find out – " My voice cracks, and I can't say the words as a sob bubbles up my throat, closing it. My hand covers my mouth, and I lean against the wall next to the window as everything starts to swim in and out of focus.

And then Edward is standing right before me, his warm hands on my bare arms, and the _electricity_ zips through me like a living thing. My eyes are fixated on his shirt; I don't dare look up into his face. "Bella?" he whispers softly, placing a finger under my chin to tip my face up to his. I gasp for breath as my eyes meet his up close for the first time in four years; the green depths burn with intensity, and I can't look away. "I need you to tell me what's going on here."

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I can't bring myself to look at her just yet; I just can't. I'm still having trouble believing that she's here at all. I thought my heart was going to stop as I saw her rise from the back pew when Reverend Weber gave the _speak now or forever hold your peace _line. I always thought that was for show; it never crossed my mind that someone would actually 'speak' at that request.

Bella's voice breaks through my consciousness, interrupting the instant replay of the last ten minutes that's been going on in my head. "I'm here because four years ago, we were both lied to. I'm here because we never had a chance to find out –"

_We were both lied to? _I don't understand. In that moment, all I want is to understand more fully. I spin around and walk the five steps across the small classroom quickly, until I'm standing right in front of Bella. I grasp her upper arms in an attempt to gain her attention, and I almost pull my hands away when I feel the same electricity that I felt four years ago, the very first time I touched her. I don't let go, though. This, _this _is what's missing in my relationship with Tanya. There's no _zing._

Bella's not looking at me, and I'm not sure why she's avoiding me. I want to gaze into her eyes, though. I've spent the last four years in a near-constant state of self-loathing for the way I treated her, not even giving her the courtesy of eye contact. Now that she's here, and I've approached her again, I can't stand the thought of _not _looking at her. "Bella?" I whisper. With my right hand, I release her left arm, place my fingertips gently underneath her chin, and carefully tip her head back. My gaze is lost in hers, and I find that her chocolate-brown eyes hold the same depth that I remember. I'm mesmerized by her, and I can't bring myself to look away. "I need you to tell me what's going on here."

"It was all a lie," she whispers. "Everything. We were set up."

"Set up?" I repeat, trying to make sense of what she's telling me.

Instead of answering my question, she reaches one hand up to mine, releasing her face from my grip. She drops her gaze, and a shooting pain rips through my chest. She's still standing right in front of me, and I miss her. It's unfathomable, the pain that I've been living with and not even realizing for the past four years of my life. _Funny that I only recognize it now that she's back. There's no rational way I can actually miss her right now, but I do. _Her fingers fumble over the small recorder she's been holding ever since she started speaking during the ceremony. After three attempts, she's finally able to push the button she wants, and a familiar voice rings through the tiny speakers.

_"So, here's what we do," _Tanya's voice says through the recorder_. "You just have to drop this little caplet into her drink; you'll want to do that pretty much as soon as Edward leaves her, though, because it's gonna take a few minutes to kick in. And make sure she doesn't see you doing it."_

_"I'm not sure about this, Tanya," _Mike replies_, _sounding hesitant_._

_"Oh, stop it," _she tells him_. "It's just one little drug; it won't do any permanent damage. Besides, I thought you wanted to be with Bella." _I imagine her rolling her eyes as she says this; it's a tone I've heard from her before, and this particular tone is always accompanied with rolling eyes.

_"I do, but I'm not sure this is the way to get what I want."_

_"Well, she's out there behind your parents' shed right now making out with Edward Cullen. If you're not serious about this, then I guess I'll just have to find someone who is. I will, too, make no mistake about that. I _will _have Edward for myself; that little tramp Bella isn't going to stand in my way." _There's a pause in the recording, silence except for the little crackles of static in the otherwise dead air. Then Tanya's voice picks up again._ "Decide fast, though, Mike. I've already started the argument between Jacob and Emmett. It won't be long before they're yelling for Edward to come help them decide who's right. In my estimation, you've got about thirty seconds left before the two oafs can't manage a civilized conversation anymore, and then it'll only take Emmett about a nanosecond to call for Edward. Idiot." _She mutters the last word_._

_"Fine, fine, I'm in," _Mike says hurriedly_. "Give me the pill."_

Bella's fingers are surer now than they were just a moment ago; she finds the 'stop' button with no difficulty. I stare at her, not believing what I just heard. "H-How did you get that?" I stutter.

Her face looks both steely with determination and heartbroken at the same time; I don't know how one person can display both emotions simultaneously, but she is. "Mike gave it to me, just last week. I told him that I couldn't live a lie anymore; that it wasn't fair to him, and since I was breaking up with him anyway, he decided it was time that I learn the truth."

I don't know what to say. I'm still reeling from the words on the tape. How could Tanya have done that? To Bella? To me? Before I have a real opportunity to recover enough to speak, I hear a key in the lock of the door, and by the time I can turn back around, the door has flown open. Tanya is standing there, hands on hips, with a single key dangling from her small hand. She looks like she's about to say something, but I speak before she can. "What did you do?" My heart aches; I've trusted her, loved her, and now, on our wedding day, I find out that our whole relationship was built on a lie.

My mother's face appears over Tanya's left shoulder, and she looks anxious, guilty, as if she tried to stop Tanya from bursting into the room and failed. _I'm sorry, _she mouths to me, and I know I'm right. It doesn't matter anymore, though. I think I actually_ want_ Tanya here; I want some sort of explanation from her.

"You can't convince me you haven't been happy all these years," she says, avoiding my question. "Come on, Edward, we're great together, and everyone knows it. Everyone but _you. _All I did back then was…" She pauses for a beat, looking for the right phrase. "…help you realize it." She shrugs her bare shoulders as if she doesn't see anything wrong with what she did. Based on her words, I realize that she doesn't.

I wasn't really angry before that; the tape shocked me to the point that I wasn't able to process _any _emotion. But now, hearing Tanya speak about the event as if she's _proud _of what she did… that tips me over the edge.

"Do you even hear yourself? You really think what you did was okay?"

"Well, yeah. Everyone got what they really wanted. Including you. Seriously, I'm way better for you than she is."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I shout. I can't believe what I'm hearing. "Who the hell are you to say you're better than anyone else? And I almost fucking married you today." I run my fingers roughly through my hair and pull on the ends, thinking. The pain on my scalp keeps me focused on the situation at hand. "I bought your shit for _four years_, Tanya. Four Goddamn years. Four years of my life, gone. Wasted. When we hooked up, I was _settling_ because I couldn't have Bella; I bet you didn't realize that, did you? You were never my first choice. But you lied to me that night, Tanya; I see it now. You told me that Bella wanted to be with Mike Newton. You told me that _he_ was _Bella's_ first choice. But it was you; _all_ you. You were a selfish bitch then, and you're being one now. And you know what? If I never see you again as long as I live, it'll be too soon."

Tanya's mouth drops open; I've never spoken to her like this before. She stares at me, unable to speak. My mother, still standing behind her, has a similar expression on her face. I want to turn to see Bella's reaction to my outburst, but I restrain myself. With the truth now exposed, I know I'll leave here today with Bella; I can wait a few more minutes to see her face again. I've waited four long years, after all.

"Are y-you… are you serious?" Tanya whispers. Her voice is barely audible; it's the first time since she's entered the room that she seems unsure of the fact that she's going to win this fight.

"I'm completely serious, Tanya," I tell her severely. "I don't like people forcing me into decisions."

"I wasn't forcing you into anything," Tanya replies, still sounding slightly scared. Now that she's dropped her conceit, I'm able to calm down a bit, at least enough to act rationally.

"You were, though. Don't you see that? Who I choose to be with isn't your decision to make," I say. I've calmed, but I'm still far from understanding this entire fucked-up situation. When I arrived at the church this morning, there was no part of me that thought the day would end up this way.

"B-but… but we're happy together."

I close my eyes and run my hand roughly over my face, trying to figure out how to make her understand. "_You_ were happy._ I _was settling. I've _always _wanted to be with Bella." I hear Bella's intake of breath behind me, but I forge on, speaking only to Tanya right now. "I did grow to love you, Tanya; I wasn't lying when I told you that on the night I proposed. I promise you that. But given a choice, it's always been Bella." I finally turn to face Bella, and she has tears running down her face; her makeup has run, but despite that, she's the most beautiful woman in the room. I reach up to wipe her tears, just like I wanted to earlier. I don't fight the urge this time the way I did before. With her face cupped in my hands, I whisper, "It's always been you."

The urge to kiss her hits suddenly and hard. I pause, wondering if now's the best time to act on such an urge. _Hell yeah, it is. I've been waiting four years to hold Bella in my arms again. _Bella gazes into my eyes, and I'm drawn to her like a magnet. I lower my mouth onto hers and am vaguely aware of the fact that I'm still in my wedding tuxedo and my would-be bride and mother are watching me kiss another woman, but I don't care. Our lips move together in perfect synchronicity, and it's as if the last four years never happened.

**~SN~**

**A/N: Thoughts? Opinions? Reactions? Do you think Tanya will take this lying down? The drama will continue in the next chapter and beyond...**

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter. Please note that if you have PMs disabled, you won't be able to receive review replies/teasers.**

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**Sarita is working on **_**several **_**multi-chapter stories (Sarita slaps forehead) and fandom gives back projects which are listed on this profile.**

**Sarita is working on an update of **_**'I Saw You Coming'**_ **this week.**

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	6. Chapter 5 Given a Choice

**A/N: Again, we're overwhelmed with the response to our story! Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and pimping us out. There's more drama in this chapter and _far_ more to come in future installments.**

**Huge thanks to our pre-readers, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for their invaluable input and friendship and to Jess (jkane180) for her beta skilz. Mwah!**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**~Given a Choice~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

Edward's eyes hold me captive for a moment, and I have the urge to fall into them. I wish that we could just be Edward and Bella and not have to deal with the ugliness that's about to take place. His fingers on my skin burn into me, sending electric tingles all through my body, and I can barely coax a coherent thought out of my addled mind.

"It was all a lie," I murmur. "Everything. We were set up."

"Set up?" Edward echoes, his eyes full of confusion.

Unable to think with his hand on me, I reach up and pull it away. Edward sucks in a breath as though he's in pain, but I can't worry about that right now. Before anything else is said, he needs to hear the tape that Mike gave me. With shaking fingers, I fumble the button twice, but on the third try, I successfully press 'play,' and the tape rolls.

As Edward listens to Tanya tell us in her own words how she fucked us both over, I keep my eyes on the floor. I can sense Edward staring at me, and I can feel the shock rolling off of him in waves. I don't look up again until the damning evidence is out there between us. Stopping the tape, I peek up at Edward, unsure what to expect. His gaze is filled with disillusionment, shock, and pain. As I stare deeply into his eyes, I can also see the stirrings of anger when his eyes darken to a stormy green.

"H-How did you get that?" His voice is soft; the anger I see building in his eyes is not for me, and I suspect Tanya is going to be one sorry woman today.

I explain to Edward about Mike, but before we can continue our conversation, the door bursts open, and there stands Tanya with her hands on her hips. Esme rushes up behind her, an apologetic look on her face.

Edward rounds on her. "What did you do?" His voice is plaintive, and I think it's only just beginning to sink in what was done to us.

My mind goes on auto-pilot as Tanya tries to defend what she did. Edward finally loses it and begins yelling and cursing at Tanya, and I cover my ears as the tears start falling. Inside, I feel as though I'm being shaken apart. Maybe all of this is just finally hitting me because I've been trying so hard to hold myself together until I could get to Edward and tell him the truth. Now that he knows... what will happen? Will he thank me for saving him from Tanya but move on without me? Will I be too much of a painful reminder to him? Hell, we only kissed once; maybe what I built it up to be in my mind is a different reality for Edward. After all, he was about to_ marry _Tanya, and I couldn't bear to stay with Mike a moment longer.

Edward's voice swims back into my consciousness. "_You_ were happy._ I _was settling. I've _always _wanted to be with Bella."

_What?_ My breathing hitches at his words, and the tears fall harder. _Edward wanted me, too? He settled, too? _I find myself hanging on Edward's every word now.

"I did grow to love you, Tanya; I wasn't lying when I told you that on the night I proposed. I promise you that. But given a choice, it's always been Bella."

_Given a choice, it's always been Bella. _Oh, my God.

I have no chance to process this revelation because Edward turns toward me, and I'm left breathless. He takes my face between his hands and wipes my tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "It's always been you," he whispers, and my heart stutters in my chest.

Edward's gaze flicks between my eyes and my lips a few times, and he seems to be debating something heavily. His face fills with resolve as he looks at me, and his mouth suddenly comes down on mine. Thoughts of how inappropriate this is are fleeting. The feel of Edward's lips gliding softly over mine is overwhelming, and I'm transported back in time to the only moment we had together before it all went wrong. He still smells the same—all musky and male, and I feel a twinge in my abdomen.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tanya screeches, snapping me back to reality.

Edward pauses, but his lips are still on mine, and his eyes are closed. "Give me a minute," he whispers against my mouth.

Taking a deep breath, Edward turns to face Tanya. He stalks toward her, grabbing her by the arms, and her eyes glitter with excitement. "You going to get rough with me, Edward?" she breathes, trying to press herself against his body.

Edward pushes her arms down, running his fingers along her bare skin until their hands are touching. I'm confused by his actions, but it's soon clear when Tanya shrieks, "Oh!"

Shoving something in his pocket, Edward entwines his fingers with Tanya's and pushes her back until she's outside the door, against the wall in the hallway, Esme stepping quickly out of their way. He leans in close to Tanya and whispers something in her ear that I can't hear, but I do notice that she pales under her makeup as her eyes widen.

Stepping away from her, Edward slams and locks the door. Tanya immediately begins banging on it, but Edward growls, "Remember what I said." The banging ceases, and we're alone. Really alone.

Edward takes something shiny out of his pocket and holds it up; it's the key that Tanya used to enter the room. "Nobody's going to disturb us now." Edward stands by the door, and I press myself into the wall beside the window. There's ten feet between us, but now that we're alone, I'm really nervous. As if sensing my trepidation, Edward moves toward me slowly. "Bella..." He holds his hand out, but I'm too afraid to take it. Instead, I keep my back against the wall and gape at him, unable to speak.

Edward's eyes fill with concern, and maybe a touch of fear, but he continues moving toward me slowly. "What's wrong? You look frightened."

"I am," I admit, but it's all I can manage to get out before my throat jams up again, and my eyelids flutter closed in self-defense. I can't bear to look into his eyes any longer.

Even though my eyes are closed, I know he's standing right before me—I can feel the electric current crackling in the air, and my eyes fly open only to meet his green ones, which are smoldering hot. "Edward, I -" My words falter, and I shake my head slightly.

"Shh..." His fingers ghost along my cheek. "Don't be afraid, Bella. Never of me." He runs his other hand up my bare arm, and goosebumps erupt in its wake. I can't look away from his burning gaze, and I really wish he would kiss me again.

My vision starts to swim, and I realize that my eyes are filled with tears again. "I'm not afraid of you, Edward. I'm afraid it's... too late."

"Too late for what?" There's genuine confusion in his eyes.

"Us."

"No." Edward shakes his head, taking my face between his hands. "Don't ever say that... please, Bella."

My hands cover his, holding them against my face. "I don't want it to be, but so much time has gone by. What if it's just not there anymore?"

Edward closes his eyes for a moment then looks down at me again as he lowers his mouth to mine. His kiss is tender and light as a feather, and it sends fireworks shooting through me. Pulling back, he whispers, "Do you _feel _that? Please tell me you do."

"Y-Yes. I've always felt it, Edward... since the first day we met."

"Me, too. It's stronger now than it's ever been. _That _is what I've been missing—dreaming of—for the past four years. Sometimes I thought I only imagined it—imagined you."

The raw power of the emotions crackling between us settles around me, and I feel charged up, as though the smallest shift might upset the balance. Edward's hands slip around to cup the back of my head, and he rests his forehead against mine. I feel his hot breath on my face, and I'm hyper aware of the few points of contact we're joined by. My body is no longer my own; I fear if Edward takes his hands off me, I'll simply fall to the ground in a puddle. My fingers glide over his chest, and I can feel the lean, powerful muscles beneath the crisp cotton of his shirt. He lets out a soft groan as one of his hands slides down my back to pull me up against his body.

Edward draws back slightly to look down at me, trailing his hand along the side of my neck and rubs his thumb across my bottom lip. His other arm tightens around my waist, holding me possessively, and my hands drift up to grip his broad shoulders.

"I want to kiss you, Bella," he says roughly, his heavily-lidded eyes filled with longing. Sweeping his thumb one final time across my lip, Edward moves in slowly, replacing it with his mouth. Tingling rushes over me like a tidal wave, and my fingers find their way into his hair. His soft, warm lips move over mine, and all the fear slips away as the tension in my body releases, and I melt into him. Guiding me back a few steps, he presses me into the wall. Tangling his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, he tilts my head, deepening the kiss.

I no longer know where we are. There's no fear, no loss, no past or present... there's only Edward, his warm body against mine, his lips, his hands... my heart slamming between us.

"Edward..." I feel my tears spill over, trickling between our joined lips. With a moan, his tongue seeks mine, and I open my mouth to him. Our tongues move together, and once again, I'm transported back to the first time he kissed me against the shed in Mike's yard. A jolt shoots straight to my core, and I realize that I've never felt anything like it before or since... until now. There's some kind of special connection between us, and suddenly, I know that I'll never feel this with another man.

Pulling away from my lips, Edward peppers kisses along my jaw and down the side of my neck. My fingers grip his hair tightly, and a small sob escapes. He cradles my face between his hands and gazes down at me. "What is it, love?"

"I've never felt like this with anyone else, Edward—not even close. It scares me a little."

"Why does it scare you?"

"Because if it doesn't work out again... I – "

"No." Edward shakes his head, his eyes burning into mine. "This _is_ going to work, Bella. We were cheated out of four years. I'm not letting you go." His mouth crashes into mine, and we're all lips, tongues, sighs and caresses.

I feel his fingertips lightly trail over my temple and down the side of my cheek as his kisses slow to gentle nibbles. With a sigh, he pulls away from me. "Bella, I could stand here and kiss you forever, but I have to deal with Tanya... the wedding."

"Of course," I answer, unsure of what to do or say.

Edward entwines his fingers with mine and kisses me softly. "Stay with me."

"I'll be here, Edward. I'll wait for you to deal with... this." I gesture toward the door and what surely waits beyond it.

"No, Bella. _Stay_ with me. _Be_ with me."

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

_She's afraid that it's not going to work out? _The thought sends pain all through my body—literal, physical pain. "No," I tell her, gazing earnestly into her eyes. "This _is _going to work, Bella. We were cheated out of four years. I'm not letting you go." I mean these words more than I've ever meant anything in my entire life. I never want to release her again as long as I live. My mouth collides with hers before I consciously realize that I've even lowered my face. There are no words to convey the emotion that's poured out in those kisses; no thoughts run through my mind at all. My tongue greedily invades her mouth, and I silently offer her my promise, my guarantee, that I'll never leave her again.

An unpleasant thought dances into my mind, almost mocking me. I trail my fingertips down the sides of Bella's face, reluctantly slowing the kisses I've longed to feel for the past four years. I sigh and force myself to pull away from her. "Bella, I could stand here and kiss you forever, but I have to deal with Tanya… the wedding." The fact that I have to do this tears at me in more ways than one. Not only do I have to leave Bella's side, but I have to go talk to all of my family, not to mention Tanya's, and tell them that there won't be a wedding today after all.

"Of course," Bella says, sounding quiet and meek.

I lean in for one more soft kiss. "Stay with me," I whisper.

"I'll be here, Edward. I'll wait for you to deal with… this." She motions toward the door, looking a bit queasy at the idea of what's on the other side, waiting for me.

I need her to understand what I'm saying, though. "No, Bella. _Stay _with me. _Be _with me." I gaze fully into her eyes, willing her to understand what I'm saying; I want to be with her, to start a relationship when this farce of a wedding is cleaned up.

She nods, and I know that we'll be okay. I wonder idly if what we shared in high school is enough to build a relationship on. We didn't know each other well before things went so horribly wrong. I realize that I don't care; we can get to know each other _now. _It's not traditional, but I want to try anyway. I want a chance to prove that there really is something to that spark I feel when I'm with Bella.

Before these thoughts sink too far into my consciousness, there's a tentative knock on the door. I'm pretty sure, based on her behavior from just a few minutes before, that this knock doesn't belong to Tanya. "We'll be okay, yes?" I ask Bella before acknowledging the rapping on the door.

"Yes," she whispers, smiling. "We'll be okay."

I return her smile and then move over to the door, unlocking and opening it. Alice is standing there, looking… not exactly scared, or even surprised, but somehow nervous. It's hard to describe the exact emotion that's playing across her features. I remember back to the ceremony, the knowing look she wore then, and I realize that she suspected something before it happened. That's why she doesn't look surprised right now. "You knew," I murmur to my sister.

"I didn't know," she counters. "I saw Bella in the back row, and I wondered, but I didn't know why she was here."

I nod, unsure of what else to say to her right now.

She seems to understand that I have no words and doesn't do anything to pressure me into talking with her. Instead, she stretches up on her toes and wraps her arms around my shoulders. "I'm glad you didn't marry Tanya," she whispers into my ear. I can't help but smirk as I hold my baby sister tight around the waist.

When I release her half a minute later, I sigh and say, "I suppose I have to go talk to some people, eh?"

"Yeah; Mom, Dad, Emmett and Rose want an explanation, obviously, and you probably need to say something to the Denalis."

I cringe at the idea of_ that _particular meeting. There's not a single cell in my body that wants to speak with them, but I know she's right; I can't _not _do it. "Can you stay with Bella?" I ask her, not because Bella needs a babysitter, but because if I was in her position, I wouldn't want to be alone right now. Alice always maintained that Bella was a good person, despite the constant bad-mouthing of her that I engaged in at home.

"Of course. That's why I came; I knew she'd need a friend right now."

"Thanks, Alice." I turn to Bella, who's heard most of the conversation. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah. You go take care of things. I'll be here, waiting for you." She offers me a small smile.

I want to kiss her again, but I'm pretty sure that if I do, I'll never get out of this room, so instead, I return her smile and stride out the door.

No sooner do I step into the hallway of the church before I realize that I have no idea where everyone is. I poke my head back into the room where Bella and Alice are waiting, but before I can even ask, Alice grins and tells me, "They're all in the Fellowship Hall, waiting for you."

"Thanks, Alice," I say again, winking at them both. Bella blushes at that.

I hurry down the hallway of the church; when I approach the door of the Fellowship Hall, I can hear shouting inside. I pause, listening for a moment.

"He's really going to listen to that girl?" Tanya's mother.

"It was his choice. I wasn't going to tell him that he had to or that he couldn't." My mother.

"This entire situation is the biggest… most ridiculous… certainly the most _expensive_ travesty I've ever been a part of." Tanya's father. _Of course he's worried about the money aspect of it._

I don't want my family to have to be a part of this argument. It's not their fault, and they shouldn't have to defend me, so I take a deep breath, summoning my courage, and enter the room. All talk ceases immediately, though not for long. Within the same minute, Mrs. Denali's venom is spewing my way. "How dare you embarrass my daughter like that!" she exclaims, hurrying up to me. She begins pounding my chest with her small fists, and I don't try to stop her. I can understand her anger; she doesn't know the truth. I wonder if her reaction would be different if she _did _know. I'll never get to find out; it's not my place to tell her what Tanya did back then.

As it becomes apparent that I'm not going to do anything to halt her movements, Emmett comes to my aid, pulling Tanya's angry mother off of me. "Listen, I'm sure Edward has a perfectly good explanation for what's going on," he tells her.

"Get your hands off me!" she screams at him.

Ignoring her, he backs her up, placing her into the very capable arms of her husband, who holds her tight, comforting her as if she was the one just getting beaten on. I look beyond them and spot Emmett's wife Rosalie sitting in a chair in the back of the room, and my parents standing, facing the Denalis, a safe distance away. It's obvious that there's been a lot of fighting going on in this room. I notice that Tanya and her sisters—the other three bridesmaids—are nowhere to be found, nor are the rest of the groomsmen. I can't think about that too much right now, though. I want to get my story out there—sans the grimy details of Tanya's betrayal—and get out of this tux and out of this church.

The rest of them know that I'm going to have to speak, too, and they watch me with rapt attention—except for Mrs. Denali, who's sobbing into her husband's chest. I think I hear words from her, but they're mostly incoherent. I speak first to the Denalis. "I know you want to make me the bad guy in this, but before you villainize me too much, I think you should talk to your daughter. I'm going to be the bigger man here and not divulge the horrible details of what she did to me. Know, however, that 'horrible' barely begins to describe what she did. I'm sorry this all culminated on what was supposed to be our wedding day, but now that I know the truth, there's no way I could marry her. I'm sorry."

"What did that girl tell you, Edward?" Mr. Denali asks, looking horrified at my words. I can't tell if his horror comes from the fact that he believes me, or the fact that he doesn't.

"I'm sorry, sir, but that's really something you need to talk to Tanya about. Tanya knows exactly what Bella told me, and Tanya knows that it was one hundred percent accurate. There's no way she can deny what I was told today; I promise you that. Bella isn't just some crack-pot old girlfriend trying to ruin my wedding day. Bella came here armed with proof that what she was saying was true, and I couldn't argue with it. I was lied to by your daughter, sir. That's the most I really want to give you until you talk to her. She lied to me in the very beginning, making our entire relationship a lie. I don't want to live like that. I'm sorry," I apologize again.

He doesn't like my words, but I'm resolute, and he can see in my face that he won't be changing my mind. "I guess I'd better go apologize to the guests and tell them that there isn't going to be a wedding today after all," he mutters, pulling his wife from the room. I'm not sure if she heard my speech over the sound of her own crying, but she doesn't fight him as he tows her out with him.

With the Denalis gone, my family approaches me. I know they probably won't ever see Tanya again, so I tell them what I heard on the tape. They are appropriately shocked, and with all the information at their disposal, they no longer seem to be upset that I won't be getting married today.

"She called me an oaf and an idiot?" Emmett asks. Everyone laughs at him; of course his primary concern is the part of the story that's about him.

"I need to get back," I tell them when the laughter dies down.

"Of course," my mother says.

"What are your plans now?" my father asks at the same time.

"I need to talk to Bella; we have some things to work out between the two of us." My parents look surprised, either because Bella's still here or because I'm going to talk to her, I'm not sure. I don't explain to them yet; when I know for sure what's going on, I'll be able to talk to them about her. "Beyond that, I'm not entirely sure. I'll let you know before I leave, though."

That seems to satisfy them for now. I hug each of them in turn—including Rosalie, whom I've never really bonded with—and walk the corridors back to the classroom where Bella is waiting. I hear commotion in the sanctuary and foyer, and I know that Tanya's father has sent everyone home. I can't allow myself to be concerned with them right now, though. An hour ago, Tanya was the ball my eye was on; now it's Bella.

I reenter the room that I dressed in earlier this afternoon and find Alice and Bella huddled together in two of the child-sized chairs. Alice, surprising me with her maturity for the second time today, quickly hugs Bella and retreats from the room without my having to ask her. I take her place in the tiny chair next to Bella. "How'd it go?" Bella asks.

"As well as can be expected, I think. The guests are leaving now."

"Oh."

I feel an overwhelming urge to touch Bella, so I reach over and grasp her hand in mine. "Where does all this leave us?" I ask, honestly seeking her opinion.

"I'm not sure," she says slowly. "What are your thoughts?"

"You heard what I told Tanya earlier; every word I said was true. I've hated myself for the way I treated you back then almost every day. I was horrible to you, Bella, and I'm sorry. I never even gave you a chance to explain. I appreciate your courage in coming here today, doing what you did, and telling me the truth, but I understand if you don't want to be with me. I'd completely deserve that." The words are coming out of my mouth, but the very thought of her taking that route destroys me inside.

"Hey, what gave you the idea that I'd come here, stop your wedding, and then want to leave alone? This was more than just saving you from making a decision you'd ultimately regret. I'm much too selfish for that." She smiles. I have a hard time imagining Bella as anything close to selfish. "I came here to see you again, yeah, but mostly because with the truth exposed, I wanted the chance to have the relationship we should have had back then."

I should have expected these words, based on our previous encounters today, but they still thrill me. "You do?" I can't stop the words from escaping my mouth.

"Yeah. Don't you?" She looks worried now, and I feel slightly guilty for making her anxious.

"I absolutely do."

Her eyes alight with joy, and she stretches over to initiate the kiss this time. It's very tender, not at all like others we've shared, but I enjoy it just the same.

"So we're really going to do this, then?" she asks when she pulls away.

"Yes, we are—_together_. We still have a lot to deal with, Bella, but if we trust in each other, we can make it through anything."

As her hand squeezes mine, I know it's true.

**~SN~**

* * *

**A/N: Thoughts? Opinions? Reactions? Next chapter we'll get a look at what is only the beginning of the fallout...**

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	7. Chapter 6 The Devil Wears Red Shoes

**A/N: We thank all of you for the incredible enthusiasm and widely varied opinions (from the angry to the hilarious) on our story! We're having so much fun writing this, and there are some great times ahead. This chapter will give you a **_**little **_**taste of what's to come.**

**Huge thanks to our pre-readers, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for their invaluable input and friendship and to Jess (jkane180) for her beta skilz. Mwah! **

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**~The Devil Wears Red Shoes~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

The guests are all gone now, and Esme knocks on the door to let us know Reverend Weber needs to lock up the church. Our time is up.

Edward and I have been sitting in this classroom clinging to each other for quite a while, not speaking. It's as if we're both fascinated with the effect our touches have on one another. Besides, to speak of what's gone before and what we expect for the future will make certain unpleasant events more real. Despite the fact that I'm ecstatic that Edward has feelings for me, this was a tragic moment in his life. To wake up with the expectation of marrying someone only to find out they deceived you, keeping you from the one you truly wanted, is devastating. My heart bleeds for Edward and all the other unsuspecting members of his family and Tanya's. None of them deserved this, and I know an explanation as to why I stood up in the middle of the wedding rather than showing up sooner is in order. I'm not entirely sure when all is said and done that Edward will find my reason acceptable—at this point, _I'm _not even sure my motives were rational.

After Esme delivers her message and walks away, I look over at Edward, suddenly feeling awkward and insecure. My mouth opens, but no words come.

Edward's hand tightens in mine. "Bella," he says softly, and I force my eyes to his, hoping he doesn't see the extent of my fear. Now that I've finally done this, the adrenaline has dropped me on my ass. His eyes are kind and full of love. Lifting his other hand, his fingers ghost over my cheek, leaving a trail of tingling in their wake. "Bella, we're going to be okay; I promise. It's time to go now." He stands up, tugging me with him.

"What happens now? Will you... call me?"

"Call you?" Edward sounds confused.

"Y-yes. I guess I'll be staying with Charlie for now. God, he doesn't even know I'm in town yet!" I slap my forehead and hope I get the chance to explain myself to my father before the rumor mill gets going. "You said it was time for you to go, so..."

"No," Edward shakes his head. "Time for _us_ to go. I'm not letting you out of my sight—not yet. Besides, I got a ride here. You don't want me to call a cab, do you? Do they even have cabs in this town?"

We share a laugh that lightens the tension somewhat.

"So, you want me to drive you... home?" I ask uncertainly.

"I want us to talk—without interruptions. I know just the place." Edward's eyes light up. "Come with me."

"Aren't you going to change?"

"When we get there."

Decided, Edward tugs me by the hand, opening the door and leading me down a long hallway. Our footsteps are hushed on the thick red carpeting, and again, I'm struck by the atmosphere of this place. I say a silent prayer of thanks and apology to God for today. A big part of me still feels it was wrong to sully God's house in that way.

At the end of the hall, Esme is waiting for us. Her expression is neutral, her eyes kind. As we reach her, I pull back slightly, trying to stand behind Edward. He turns his head, eyes quizzical, because he doesn't understand why I'm resisting.

Esme understands, though. "Bella, honey, don't feel funny in front of me. Thank God you got to Edward before he married that... Tanya." Her face flushes slightly. I think she was about to use language that's not part of her everyday vocabulary. "Edward, do you need a ride?"

"No thanks, Mom. Bella and I need to talk. I'm going to bring her to the cottage, if you don't mind."

Esme looks startled for a moment. "Oh! Um, sure."

"We've missed a lot of time. We need to decide where we go from here."

Esme steps in and grabs us both into her embrace. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Edward. You're a grown man capable of taking care of yourself. I wish you both the best; something this tragic never should have happened. I'm glad it goes no further."

Gratitude floods through me. She doesn't even know the whole story, and already she's accepted me. "Thank you, Mrs. Cullen," I say shyly.

"Mrs. Cullen makes me sound so old! Please call me Esme."

"Thank you, Esme."

And then we're outside in the cool air. We walk down the front steps of the church hand-in-hand. As usual, even though Forks Avenue is the 'main drag' in town, there are few cars out and about. I breathe deeply of the fresh air. I'm able to fully inflate my lungs, and it feels freeing, leaving me with the impression that something that's been pressing on my chest for a long time has finally released.

"Where are you parked?" Edward asks.

My face flushes when I think about executing my plan, and how I parked my rental car out of sight even though I knew nobody would recognize it. "Behind the internet cafe. Can you believe they have an internet cafe here in_ Forks _of all places?" I laugh shakily.

Edward stops walking, tugging back on my hand until I face him. He caresses my cheek in his palm, and my heart beats faster as his masculine scent fills my nostrils. "Are you all right, Bella?"

"Yes, of course," I lie, dropping my eyes. Why am I lying to Edward? Hasn't there been enough subterfuge? Misdirection is how we got where we are in the first place. "No. No, I'm not." I shake my head.

Edward remains silent, his thumb rubbing lightly over my cheekbone. Finally, I look up at him, and he's gazing down at me with adoration—and a crooked little smile that takes my breath away. My eyes widen as I take him in, and I wonder how someone so beautiful might end up being mine. Not that I think I'm ugly or plain, but he's _stunning _in a movie-star kind of way. His eyes gaze into mine, and I'm hypnotized by emerald, held captive by the intensity of his stare. I have the feeling I'm being stripped bare before him, and I can feel my face heat an even deeper shade of red. My lips part—I need to say something—but Edward shakes his head slowly.

"Shh... it's okay. You're nervous." It's not a question; it's a statement. He's so sure of himself, which amazes me after what he's been through today. "Don't be. You have no idea how long I've waited for you, how often I dreamed that there was some... mistake..." Edward's voice falters, choked with emotion, and his eyes slip closed as he presses his forehead to mine.

"Oh, Edward," I sigh. "Maybe we should, um, go to the cottage to have this conversation?"

"Yes, we absolutely should." His lips graze mine lightly, sending my heart soaring, and then he pulls at my hand again.

Leading him to the Corolla I rented, I dig in my handbag for the keys. Even though Edward has reassured me, and I do feel somewhat better about things, I'm still terribly nervous. We haven't seen each other in nearly four years, and although Edward seems to return my feelings, there's still a surreal edge to reality. I worry that I'll wake up and find he's just a dream that will slip away like a wisp of smoke as consciousness seeps back in.

My hand comes in contact with cold metal, and I snag the keyring with a finger. Rifling through the keys to find the one that opens the door—there are only three—my hand shakes so badly that I drop them into a small puddle of water on the asphalt. "Damn it."

I bend to reach for them, but Edward grabs my hand. "No, let me." He plucks the keys from the water, shaking them off, and locates the proper one to unlock the door. Turning to face me, he puts his hands on my upper arms. "Bella, why don't you let me drive?"

"Okay." I'm happy to let him take over. He knows where the cottage is, and I don't trust myself not to crash into something.

True gentleman that he is, Edward walks me around to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for me. I fumble with the seat belt; it seems I'm incapable of doing anything that requires even the mildest of precision, such as buckling the damn thing. My face flushes when Edward gets into the car, and my fingers are still shaking too hard to manage this small task.

A warm hand is laid on mine, stilling my awkward attempts. "Allow me." Edward leans over me, quickly buckling me in, and his masculine scent envelops me. Memories of high school come rushing back—the good and the bad—and I breathe deeply, not wanting to suppress them anymore. In fact, I _need_ to go there if we're going to be able to move forward together.

Edward hovers close, taking in a breath, and I wonder if he's remembering, too. He places a chaste kiss on my cheek, but it still sends shivers of pleasure through me. As he starts leaning back, I run my fingers lightly over his clean-shaven face. "Thank you." When I say this, it encompasses much more than thanking him for buckling me into the car. I'm so grateful that he listened, that he didn't judge me too harshly... that he has feelings for me, too.

The car smoothly purrs to life. Edward holds out his hand, and I gladly take it—it's something to hold on to, something tangible and real in what feels like fantasy. By unspoken agreement, neither of us speak; we just hold hands on the ride to the cottage. Edward's thumb rubs gently over my knuckles, and I feel so cared for. My eyes slip closed, and the sounds of the road fade away...

"Bella..."

I wrinkle my brow.

"Bella, sweetheart, wake up." Soft, velvety, sexy... _Edward._

I open my eyes, and he's really here. _I'm _really here. Stretching my arms as my faculties return, I feel ashamed for nodding off on him. "Sorry I fell asleep," I say sheepishly.

"It's okay; this has been quite the day for both of us. We're here."

Blinking my eyes sleepily, I gaze out the windshield at a beautiful cottage nestled in the woods. It looks like something out of a dream, and not for the first time today, I question reality. The little house is made up of pastel colored stones, a thatched roof, paned windows in different sizes and shapes with flower boxes beneath some of them, and a curved front door that looks like it belongs in a fairytale—in fact, the whole scene looks like it belongs in a fairytale.

"Wow."

I'm startled when my car door opens, and Edward leans in to offer me his hand. He helps me out of the car and leads me to the door of the adorable little house. I used to dream of having a little place like this; it's just so perfect. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulls out a key ring that has a miniature cottage on it, and I can't help but smile.

Edward catches my look and smirks. "My mom," he says in explanation. "She thought it was a good match."

"It is."

Edward opens the door, sweeping an arm out. "My lady."

A flush creeps up the back of my neck, and I wonder just how often this man is going to garner this reaction from me. I wish I could control it.

Stepping over the threshold, I take in our surroundings. The front door lets into a cozy living room. The walls of the cottage are stone, there are hardwood floors polished to a gleam with strategically placed area rugs, and a fireplace graces the center wall, leading me to believe there might be a matching fireplace elsewhere. Comfortable looking beige leather couches are grouped in the center of the room, and there's a floor to ceiling built-in book case to the right that holds many volumes and knick-knacks. An adorable breakfast nook separates the living room from the kitchen, which is small but looks fully functional. A hallway runs up the center of the cottage alongside the kitchen leading to other rooms I can't see yet.

Walking forward slowly, my eyes rove over the place, and I'm embarrassed at the way I'm gawking. There's silence behind me, and I turn to see Edward watching me carefully. I'm not sure what to make of his expression.

"What?" I ask self-consciously.

"You seem to be examining the house pretty intently."

"Oh, uh, sorry."

"No, that's okay. I'm just wondering why."

"Well, jeez, Edward! Just look at this place. It's... it's..."

"Too small?" he offers.

"Perfection. It's perfection." I move further into the room, drifting over by the fireplace where I see pictures of all the Cullens on the mantelpiece. "I mean, it's so darling. Elegant, yet cozy. It would make the ideal little retreat." I turn back to face Edward with a soft sigh of delight.

His face is slightly incredulous. "Not what I was expecting to hear." He lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he strolls into the room and shuts the door behind him.

"Did I say something wrong, Edward?" Confusion floods through me. He's behaving so strangely!

"Not at all. I'm sorry, Bella; it's just that I've been defending this place so much lately."

"What's to defend? Only a blind man wouldn't immediately see the charm."

"Tanya hates it. We were going to spend our wedding night here because our plane wasn't leaving until tomorrow. This place didn't meet Tanya's five star requirements."

"Well, she obviously has substandard taste in accommodations because this is the ideal place to spend a wedding night."

"Oh, it is?" Edward asks with a smirk.

For the thousandth time, my face flushes. "Um... well, I think it is. It would be where I'd want to spend my wedding night... I mean -" I slap a hand over my mouth feeling like a complete idiot. "Oh, Bella... open mouth, insert foot!" I mutter.

Edward crosses the rest of the living room, taking my hand in his. "Hey. I know what you meant. Bella, I want you to be comfortable with me. I know this is... strange... but I want you to feel you can tell me whatever is on your mind. Okay?"

I look up into earnest green eyes, and I melt. He's trying so hard; he really wants this, too. "Okay; I promise to try."

"That's my girl." Edward winks at me, and my insides turn to goo, my breath catches, and my heart starts racing. He sweeps a finger over my cheek. "I'm going to change out of this monkey suit. Make yourself at home, and I'll be back in a few. The fridge is stocked if you want something to eat or drink."

Edward heads down the hall, and I find myself alone to gaze around this glorious, magical little cottage. Why am I not surprised that its incredible charm escaped the high maintenance Tanya? Pfft. Her loss. Maybe someday... but I probably shouldn't let my head get too far into the clouds yet. Edward and I still have a bumpy road ahead of us.

Grabbing a glass from the cabinet in the kitchen, I pour myself some ice water. My stomach rolls as I think about the conversation Edward and I need to have. Aside from the desire to see if we can make it as a couple, I have to come clean about the way I methodically planned to interrupt his nuptials.

Suddenly, the front door slams open, startling me out of my reverie. I look over to see Tanya Denali strut into the room, high heels clicking on the hardwood. She's wearing a red dress that fits her like a second skin and showcases her ample cleavage. If I hadn't seen her crying earlier, I would think nothing had gone wrong today; her makeup is flawless, her skin clear.

When her eyes land on me, she hisses, "You!" Her eyes are murderous, and she lunges straight toward me with her fists balled up.

The glass slips from my hand and crashes to the floor. The sound is deafening... like a gun shot. After the initial impact, I can hear a tinkling sound as the shards of glass hit against the floor, wall and cabinets. Icy water splashes everywhere, and I jolt when some of it hits my legs.

Tanya is still coming, her blue eyes blazing with a fire borne of rage and hatred, and I'm frozen in place, unsure what to do. It reminds me of a deer caught in the headlights of a truck bearing down on it—the horror is there, you know it's coming, but you're unable to get the message relayed between the brain and the body.

"Bella?" Edward's concerned voice snaps me out of my haze. "Are you all right?"

_Edward._ He has no idea that Tanya is out here; he doesn't know what he's walking into. Apparently, his voice penetrated the bubble I was in, but my mouth still isn't working right.

"Edward..." I try to warn, but it comes out in a croaky whisper too low for him to hear.

The three of us are on a collision course, and there's nothing I can do about it. Although I know it's only seconds, everything seems to happen in slow motion.

Tanya is to my right, stomping straight toward me.

To my left, I hear the sound of Edward's feet padding on the floor, and my gaze turns sharply his way. My mouth falls slightly open when he comes into view. Edward apparently didn't have time to finish dressing—his feet are bare, and he's wearing a pair of faded jeans that hang low on his slim hips. His lean, muscled chest is gloriously naked with the exception of what looks like dog-tags hanging on a chain around his neck.

"Bella? What -" When Edward sees Tanya, his emerald eyes darken. "_Tanya_, what the hell are you doing here?" he growls.

Tanya is brought up short by the sight of Edward, and she looks him over from head to toe, cocking an eyebrow. She recovers quickly, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, well, well. Isn't _this _cozy?

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I'm torn between wanting to stay with Bella and the urge to change my clothes. On one hand, the tux is stiff and uncomfortable, plus it's the only physical reminder of the day that I've brought away from the church, save for Bella herself. On the other hand, I don't want to let her out of my sight; it's like I'm afraid she'll disappear in a puff of smoke, leaving me wondering what could have been. In the end, changing my clothes isn't really a choice; I know I can't wear my wedding attire any longer.

After letting Bella know that I'm going to change, I walk down the hall to the only bedroom in the cottage. Though I'm anxious to get back to Bella, I also want to think things through while I change, so I fight the urge to strip and redress quickly, taking my time instead.

I take the clothes off in the reverse order of the way I put them on earlier, starting with the shiny shoes and thin socks, then the tie. When all of the pieces of the tux are lying on the bed and I'm standing there in just my boxers and my grandfather's dog tags, the thoughts really begin to flood my brain, although they're mostly variations on the same question: _What the hell happened today? _The scene replays in my head, and I sit heavily on the bed, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, running them roughly over my face and through my hair. For a split second, I even find myself wondering why Bella waited until it was almost too late to speak up. She could've contacted my parents a couple of days ago or asked to speak with me before the wedding. There were any number of choices that she could've made other than standing up during my wedding and making her pronouncement.

It's a conscious effort for me to banish those thoughts; blaming Bella is not something I'm interested in doing. None of this is her fault any more than it's mine. The blame lies squarely on Tanya's shoulders. _If you want to blame someone, remember that tape. The tape says it all. _

Again, while the tape explains her motive for coming forward, it doesn't say anything as to why she waited. _You can surmise all day long, or you can go talk to her. The question to ask isn't why she waited; the question is 'do you want to be with her?' _I groan and flop back on the bed. That question is a lot harder than it appears on the surface. Tanya was a good match for me; that's why I stayed with her for four years, after all. Though I had instant chemistry with Bella every time I saw her—that tingly, butterflies-in-your-stomach excitement that I never felt with Tanya—so much is still unknown. We've had _one _night together, and it was years ago; we were barely legal adults then. No matter what I _want_, I have to be smart about this. I can't just dive headfirst into something with Bella without having a lot of conversations with her, and time alone, too, to make sense of all my thoughts.

But then the more recent events of the day flood my mind. I can't help but think that Bella didn't _want _to come here and break up a wedding. Nothing about her behavior today makes me think she acted out of selfishness. She didn't care whether I chose her in the end or not; she just wanted to make the truth known. That's the thought that ultimately gets me moving again. I know there's a _lot_ more talking that needs to happen, and then we have a decision to make together. Maybe multiple decisions. I still have one more year of school left to get my degree, and married to Tanya, dating Bella, or all alone makes no difference; I _will _get my degree, and I _will _work hard and get a good job after graduation. That's something I have to do for myself, and I make a silent vow that nothing will get in the way of finishing college, no matter how fucked up my life is right now.

After pushing up off the bed and striding across the room, I grab my suitcase from its spot by the door, ignoring the other one that's sitting there—Tanya's. Right on top are my favorite jeans and an ash-gray Dartmouth tee, so I pull them out and zip the luggage shut again, ignoring the shorts and sandals that are packed for a week in Fiji.

Before I can pull any of the clothes on, there's a loud crashing sound coming from the direction of the main room; I'm not entirely sure what it is, but it's not good. Quickly, I yank the jeans up over my hips and fasten them as I walk toward the door and back down the hall. "Bella? Are you all right?" Concern is evident in my voice.

I can't see Bella yet, but I know that no good can come from a sound like the one I heard. It's a struggle for me to keep a sane pace rather than rushing to her aid, but somehow, I manage to do it. When I emerge from the mouth of the hallway into the kitchen, Bella is looking my way, obviously waiting for me to appear. Her mouth drops open slightly at the sight of me, and I can't help but feel as though my ego's been stroked just a bit. That thought is eliminated the instant I see the panic on her face, however. "Bella? What –" I start, but something catches my attention—just a flash of bright red out of the corner of my eye. I look in the direction of the red, and can't believe what I'm seeing. "_Tanya_, what the hell are you doing here?" My voice is livid, which I have no problem with. It matches how I feel, seeing her now. The idea of Tanya showing up at the cottage never even entered my mind as a possible scenario for what might happen today.

Tanya's eyes roam my body greedily, and if I wasn't so mad, I'd be flattered. Flattery is the last thing on my mind now, and when Tanya speaks, my anger is multiplied tenfold. "Well, well, well. Isn't _this _cozy?"

I literally see red, and it's not because of Tanya's dress.

A few deep breaths and a silent ten-count later—three silent ten-counts, actually—and I think my mind is clear enough that I'll be able to have a civilized conversation. The first thing to do is talk to Bella. Ignoring Tanya, I make my way to the kitchen where Bella's still standing, shaking like a leaf.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I'm so s-s-sorry," she stutters, watching me approach. "I t-tr-tried to –"

"Shh, shh, Bella, it doesn't matter. Ouch! What the hell?" The pain in my feet is instantaneous upon entering the kitchen. I look down and am surprised to see broken glass all over the hardwood floor; upon further thought, though, the crashing sound that caught my attention in the first place makes sense now. Gingerly lifting one foot, then the other to assess the damage done to my feet, I can tell that the pain is worse than the actual injury. Pushing through the pain, and looking at the ground rather than at Bella to avoid further glass-crunching, I make my way over to her.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I didn't know she was coming, and then she showed up here and came in without knocking and…" Bella takes a deep breath before continuing, "She just started yelling at me, and I was shocked, and the glass slipped. I'm sorry, Edward; I didn't mean to break it. I was just trying to drink some water –"

I cut her off. "Bella, Bella, it's not your fault. None of this is your fault." My words are not only designed to help calm her but to remind me of the conclusion I'd come to in the bedroom. Which reminds me… I spin around—and curse again, thanks to those damn cuts—to face my fiancée. Ex_-fiancée__, _I remind myself, emphasizing the 'ex.' Reaching behind my back, I grasp Bella's hand and lead her through the labyrinth of broken glass to the living room where Tanya is standing, arms crossed over her chest, looking every bit the self-righteous bitch she's been ever since Bella came forward during the wedding ceremony. "Why are you here, Tanya? You didn't think my learning the truth was enough torture for me for one day?"

"Oh, spare me, Edward," she snaps. "Torture." She rolls her eyes at my word, as if it's too strong a sentiment.

I'm honestly taken aback. It's difficult for me to reconcile this woman with the one I was about to marry earlier today. She _looks_ the same as the Tanya that I'd grown to love, but she certainly doesn't _act_ the same. "Yes, Tanya, _torture._ It was the right word."

"You think your new girlfriend didn't torture _me_ today? It was _my_ wedding she ruined, and now I come here to find the two of you, alone together, in the place _we_ were supposed to spend our wedding night."

Bella inhales sharply behind me, as if the enormity of what's happening is just now hitting her. I don't think it is; she had to have gone over this several times in her mind before today. Things are just so _real_ now, with Bella and me alone in the cottage, being interrupted by Tanya, and Tanya's unspoken accusation in those three little words '_Isn't this cozy?'_ I glare at Tanya and remind her, not for the first time today, "_Our_ wedding, Tanya. It was _our_ wedding, not yours." I turn my head to look over my shoulder at Bella. "I'm not sure you really want to listen to this, Bella. I don't think it's going to be pretty. I mean, I know that it involves you, too, so I won't force you to leave, but it might be better if you waited in the bedroom."

"That's fine; I have no problem waiting in the other room." Bella's voice is barely a whisper, and she honestly looks a little relieved at my suggestion. She makes her escape down the short hall I emerged from just moments before, and the door clicks shut behind her. She'll still be able to hear the confrontation if she listens, but by not being in the room, she has the option of at least _trying_ to ignore what's sure to become a shouting match before long.

Once Bella's gone, I sit on the couch and begin the arduous task of picking glass out of the bottoms of my feet methodically, ignoring Tanya. With each _plink, plink _of glass hitting the end table next to me, I can hear Tanya getting more and more irritated. The toe of her red, high-heeled shoe is tapping impatiently against the shined wood floor, and the tempo is picking up. I've got all the time in the world, though. I know that this isn't exactly the best way to deal with things—avoidance—but I'm beyond caring. When both feet are clear of glass, and I think Tanya's about worn a hole in my mother's hardwood floor with her tapping, I lift my gaze to meet hers.

"You're finally going to pay attention to me?" Her voice is nothing short of a sneer.

"You could have spoken at any time, Tanya," I reply, matching her tone. "Why did you come here?"

"I should be asking you that same question."

"I came here to talk." She scoffs, but I continue, "Yes, _talk_ things out with Bella. I've gone over all of this with you already, Tanya. I'm not going to rub your face in the fact that Bella came here, okay? But I'm also not going to let you in my business anymore. I couldn't care less that it happened to be Bella who brought your actions to light. Honestly, I couldn't give a damn who it was; I'm just glad I learned the truth before it was too late. I still can't believe what you did." I shake my head in disgust.

"Oh, come off it, Edward," she replies. "I know you claim that you weren't kidding at the church, and you're acting all high and mighty now, but I honestly don't believe you. It'll just be a matter of time before you're back in my bed. And in the meantime, I'll wait."

"You'll be waiting a really long fucking time, then," I snap, standing up now and testing the wounds on my feet. They're not bad; I'm pretty sure I won't need any medical attention. "I don't care if Bella storms out of the bedroom right now and tells me she never wants to see me again because she's afraid that you'll never leave us alone. Well, actually, I do care if she says that. I don't care if she decides she doesn't want to be with me on her own merits, but I swear to God, Tanya, I _don't care_ if I end up old and alone. That's a better fate than marrying you. I will never—I repeat, _never_—be with you again. I wouldn't be with you if you paid me all the money in your trust fund. Now that I know what you're capable of…" I can't even finish the thought; I just shudder.

"Oh, you have no idea what I'm capable of," she retorts. "You think what I did at eighteen was bad? Well, you ain't seen nothing yet, baby." She doesn't even bother trying to hide the imminent threat, and I want to throw something at her. Luckily for her, I have incredible self-control, because the only things within my reach are the glass picture frames of my family. Plus, I know that my mom would be really pissed—though she'd hide it well—if I did anything to damage her little bungalow. It's my adoration and respect for my mom—even more than my self-control—that keeps me from grabbing one of those photographs and launching it at Tanya's head. I'm also reminded of words I'd heard as a child—_never hurt a lady_. I scoff internally. Tanya's proven herself to be anything but a 'lady.'

Since I can't throw something at her like I want to, I make sure my anger is evident in my voice; it drips with venom. "I swear on my mother's life, Tanya, if you do anything to fuck this up for me, after having stolen the past four years of my life, I'll make good on my threat, too. You are _not_ the one in control of this situation. The statutory limit isn't up on what you did to Bella, and she has proof that slipping her the GHB was all your idea and not Mike's." I have no idea if what I'm saying is true or not; I'm not a law student, and I could be blowing smoke on this 'statutory limits' nonsense, but it doesn't matter. Tanya doesn't study law, either, so she has no way of knowing whether I'm telling the truth or not. So long as I keep the conviction in my voice, never faltering, she'll believe me.

And for the first time since she's entered the cottage—well, at least since I've noticed her, anyway—she backs down, just as quickly as she backed down in the church. Her arms drop from her chest, and she steps toward me, arms reaching. She seems to realize belatedly what she's doing and instantly halts her actions. Her eyes are practically boring into mine, looking for any trace of insecurity in what I've told her; I know she won't find any. The cold, hard mask finds its way back to her features, and Tanya's all business now. "Well, whatever, Edward. I still don't believe you, so we'll just have to see who's right in the end."

"Yeah, we will. Rest assured, though, it sure as hell won't be you."

She rolls her eyes again in classic Tanya style. "I guess all that's left now is for me to get my stuff. Oh, and what are your plans for Fiji? Are you taking your new love bunny on _our _honeymoon?"

My forehead wrinkles in disgust. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. You really think I'd stoop that goddamn low? No, Tanya, I'm not taking Bella on our would-be honeymoon to Fiji. In fact, you can have the fucking tickets. I don't want them. As soon as we're done here, I'll get your suitcase and the tickets. You can take whoever the hell you want. I don't even care."

"I'm done if you are." Her tone is one of finality, and I know that anything else I say will go in one ear and out the other, so it's best to just cut the ties now and hope I never have to see her again. Although, her threat from moments before comes back to haunt me, and I know that I'm just not that lucky. There's no way in hell she's 'done' like she claims to be. It's enough that she's done for now, though.

"Yeah, I'm done. I'll go get your stuff."

Bella glances up when I enter the tiny bedroom; she's sitting in the same spot on the bed that I was twenty minutes ago. "How's it going out there?"

"It's okay. Nothing for you to worry about." I can't _not _touch Bella, seeing her here. The attraction is honestly a little frightening, but she's like a magnet; the north to my south. Like a moth to the flame, I'm drawn to her. Before I realize what's happened, I'm standing directly in front of her, cupping her face in my hands. "Bella, I'm sorry she showed up here. I had no idea she was planning on coming out here. I suppose I should've guessed that she wouldn't be able to let the trip go to waste, though. That's the reason she came: to get the tickets for what was supposed to be our honeymoon. I don't know who she's taking, but she's going on the trip, and I'm staying here. With you. We'll at least have a couple of weeks while she's in Fiji to figure all this shit out."

"You don't have to apologize for her showing up here, you know," Bella replies, grabbing on to the first thing I said. "There was no way that could have been predicted, and I'm not mad. Especially not at you. Hell, you should be mad at me for breaking that glass all over the floor. How are your feet, by the way? I'm really sorry about that."

"Listen to us," I chuckle. "A couple of apologizers, when neither of us has really done anything wrong." She giggles at my synopsis of the situation. "My feet are fine, though; don't worry about it. And as soon as Tanya leaves, we'll clean up the kitchen and have that conversation we came here to have."

Leaning down, I place a tender kiss on Bella's mouth; nothing deep, just enough to let her know that I'm okay, and I really do want to have the chance to work things through with her. And maybe to remind myself of what's waiting for me when I finish with Tanya. Just like at Mike Newton's party in high school, and again an hour ago at the church, the spark where our skin touches jolts through my body, causing me to gasp slightly before pulling away. The look on Bella's face as I pull away is almost enough to make me forget about my ex in the other room. Actually, it _would_ have been if it weren't for the sound of Tanya's goddamn red heels clicking all over the floor as if I were causing her some huge frickin' inconvenience by not being fast enough. I sigh, irritated by Tanya's pacing in the living room. "I'll be right back," I promise Bella. "Just give me a few more minutes to get rid of Tanya."

"Yeah, no problem."

Grabbing the airline envelope from the top of the dresser and Tanya's suitcase from the floor near the door, I hurry back to the main room and practically thrust Tanya's things at her. "There. You've got what you came for now and a free trip to boot. Now get the hell out of my life."

"You don't really mean that, Edward," she purrs, trying her hand at seducing me.

I can't believe what I'm hearing. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. "I mean it more than you'll ever know, Tanya. Obviously I can't reason with you anymore. Go to Fiji, have a great time, and when you get back, _don't ever call me again._" My eyes are still closed, and I sincerely hope that she doesn't press me any further. I don't open my eyes, but I hear Tanya's shoes clacking their way across the room, and then the sound of the cottage's front door opening and closing. It's only then that I open my eyes. And, thank God, she's actually gone. For how long, only time will tell. I just hope that she's taken my threat seriously.

Finally, _finally_, I make my way back to Bella.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: So... do you think Tanya's finished with them? Nah. Of course not! What do you think Tanya will do? What is she capable of? *shiver***

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter. Please note that if you have PMs disabled, you won't be able to receive review replies/teasers.**

_**There will be a special outtake of this story gifted for the Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness in June. Details to come...**_

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**Sarita is working on an update of '**_**Broken Windows**_**'** **this week. Just for you Lindsey!**

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	8. Chapter 7 In This Together

**A/N: Thanks again, everyone, for your enthusiasm, pimping and encouragement for our story! We enjoy reading each and every review—from excited to encouraging to angry to disbelieving and back again. You guys floor us!**

**Huge thanks to our pre-readers, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for their invaluable input and friendship and to Jess (jkane180) for her beta skilz. Mwah! **

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**Chapter 7**

**~In This Together~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

Tanya is gone, the mess in the kitchen has been cleaned up, and I find myself sitting nervously on one of the beige leather couches in the living room, waiting for Edward while he finishes dressing. He's taking a long time, and I have the feeling that he needs some time to himself to assimilate all that's happened so far. Hell, I_ knew_ I was coming here to Forks today with the intention of exposing Tanya for the lying, deceiving bitch that she is—not that it was my main reason for coming; I came hoping to reclaim my lost chance to explore the electrifying, magnetic pull that Edward Cullen has over me—but Edward had been hit between the eyes without warning. If I was shaking, nervous and scared about what all this meant, I couldn't even imagine what Edward might be feeling right now.

Despite the fact that I waited in the bedroom while Edward and Tanya duked it out, I heard almost all of what they were saying. The phrase '_Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' _floats through my mind, and I'm pretty sure that Tanya's not done with us. She may be heading to Fiji for a few weeks, but when she returns, she'll be trying to get Edward back in her life and her bed.

A sick feeling rolls through my stomach at the thought of Edward sleeping with Tanya... images of her raking her long nails over his back while he makes love to her fill my mind unbidden. I know it's ridiculous of me—of course he's had sex with Tanya. They've been living together in the same apartment, for heaven's sake. He's been with her for nearly four years—spending time with her, caring for her, loving her. All the things that he could have been doing with _me_ if we weren't so naïve back then.

Edward has probably taken Tanya nice places, shared her bed, maybe snuggled up on _their_ couch watching movies. Did they shower together after making love, getting frisky all over again? What was their sex life like? Did they have friends over often? I wonder how many mutual friends they have and what kind of pressure might be brought to bear on Edward to forgive Tanya for a mistake she made back in high school. That thought makes me feel as if I'm going to throw up—_would _he ever forgive her? After thinking about it for a while, will Edward realize he loves Tanya enough to look past what she did and take her back?

I don't even realize that I'm crying until warm hands are cupping my face, two thumbs gently wiping away my tears.

"Bella? What's wrong, sweetheart?" Edward crouches down in front of me, his green eyes filled with concern.

Now I've done it. What the hell am I supposed to say to him—I've been imagining you and Tanya doing all kinds of loving and sexual things together? I swallow around the lump in my throat, shaking my head slightly.

"Talk to me, Bella. This is only going to work if we do it together." Edward's voice is kind, not harsh. His eyes tell me his attention is all on me, that he's _here _with me, not thinking about Tanya. But will it stay that way?

Then again, four years ago, Edward and I didn't communicate, which is _why_ we're both here today in pain. I have to tell him what's on my mind. If we're to have any chance at a future together, the playing field needs to be leveled.

"Edward, I'm sorry. I can't help but wonder about... you and Tanya. All these thoughts of how happy you guys probably are—were—keep running through my head, and I can't stop them. Logically, I know you spent the last four years with her, and you would have done many things together, but I still find myself... a little bit... jealous, I guess. I feel out of the loop—so left out. The thought of you... and her... I –" The words stick in my throat.

"Shh... it's okay, Bella. What you're thinking and feeling is normal for what we've been through." Edward moves to sit next to me on the couch, pulling me into his side. I lay my head on his shoulder, both for comfort and so I don't have to meet his eyes. "Hey, you think I like the idea of you and... fucking _Mike Newton_? I hate the thought of his hands all over you. It should have been me—us—those hands on you should have been mine." His voice is rough with pain, and there's some anger there, too.

I enjoy resting my cheek against his soft, cotton t-shirt, and I breathe in his masculine scent, content to pretend for a moment that there's nothing standing between us, that we're like any normal couple snuggling up together. We're not, though, and I still have some explaining to do.

Sitting up, I turn my body to face Edward's, taking his hand in mine. I look down shyly. "So, you don't think you'd ever... take Tanya back?"

"Fuck no!" Edward blurts, and I can't help myself—I start giggling. Edward's face flushes with embarrassment. "Sorry. You caught me off guard. Why the hell would I ever take Tanya back? She's a lying, deceitful bitch, and she's lucky she isn't on her way to jail for what she did."

"Well, you love her. You were planning to spend the rest of your life with her," I remind him gently.

Edward stares at me, and his face slowly falls. "Oh. Well, yes, I _did _love Tanya in my way... but I, um... I settled, Bella." He brings a hand up and rubs his eyes hard. After a moment, he says, "I expected it was the best things would get for me because the one person in this world that made me really _feel_ was unavailable to me."

I stare at him silently, unsure how to answer. I can understand what he's saying because I tried things with Mike, the difference being I was unable to go through with the relationship. Everyone reacts differently, though, and all this time, Edward believed I'd used him just to get to Mike. Now that all is said and done, now that the adrenaline of the day is wearing off, I just feel shattered inside—battered and bruised.

"Bella?" Edward looks into my eyes, his green ones troubled. "Is everything okay? I mean... as okay as it's going to get right now? Are you... upset with me?"

"No, I'm not upset with you, Edward. This is just so... screwed up. If only..." I shake my head as, once again, the gravity of the situation hits me. One moment in time—one night—brought us to this. If Mike hadn't 'fessed up to me, Edward would have married Tanya and spent the rest of his life with her. They might have had children and grandchildren, and she would have been the one to share all his joys and sorrows with him. "My God, Edward, this could have been so... so permanent. We lost four years, but it might have been forever."

"I know," he says softly, caressing my cheek. "I was so stupid back then, Bella. It destroyed me when I saw you making out with Mike that night. I was such an asshole to you. If I'd pulled my head out of my ass long enough, I would've noticed that you weren't _with_ Mike after the party."

"We both messed up, Edward. It was all a huge misunderstanding. I wonder how many people that happens to. Thank God we found out the truth."

"How about a change of scenery? The woods around this place are beautiful. We can talk while we walk. There's still an hour or two of daylight left."

"That sounds good." I smile as Edward stands, holding his hand out to me.

Movement is good; it brings me out of my fog, encouraging me to think more clearly. Edward is free to choose whomever he wishes to be with—if that happens to be Tanya, there's nothing for me to say about it. What I don't want to do is push him away or alienate him because of my insecurities about us. I remind myself that this is a unique situation and decide to cut myself some slack.

With our fingers linked loosely, we walk along the serene wooded paths behind the cottage. I'm glad I listened to Edward and tossed one of his hoodies over my dress. Aside from the warmth it provides, it smells like him, and I'm happy to be surrounded by his scent; it's calming and reminds me that _I'm_ the one with him right now. Edward also encouraged me to put on a pair of flat shoes—he remembered how clumsy I could be. Since all my stuff was in the trunk of the rental, it was no problem to dig up my sneakers.

I feel a little silly wearing a fancy dress with a hoodie and sneakers, but I _don't_ feel silly holding Edward's hand or taking my chance at what we missed out on. Determination fills me, and I'm ready to tell him my side.

"Edward, I want to tell you everything. I don't want there to be any more misunderstandings."

"I'd like that, Bella," he answers softly.

Out of the two of us, Edward has it the worst. Not only did he think I chose Mike over him, but his relationship with Tanya was built on lies, and he was about to _marry_ her. Having someone barge in on your wedding day is tough, even if it's justified.

I find that I don't want to do this while walking, so when I spy a big flat rock next to a bubbling stream, I tug on Edward's hand, leading him there. "Edward, do you mind if we sit?"

"Not at all."

We sit side by side, turned so we're nearly facing each other, our knees touching lightly. I take Edward's hand in mine, tracing over his palm. "Firstly, I owe you a huge apology for... for busting in on your wedding the way I did. I have my reasons, but I honestly didn't think about what it might do to you, and for that, I'm so very sorry." My eyes are trained on my finger, which is still swirling designs over his skin because I can't bear to look in his eyes as I say this. I'm afraid of what I might see there, afraid it might alter what I say, so I do this without gazing into his intense eyes.

"Why _did_ you wait, Bella? Why didn't you come to me... sooner?" Edward's tone isn't accusatory, but he's clearly baffled, and he wants to understand.

Looking up at the slowly darkening sky, which is shot with streaks of purple, I sigh softly. "Edward, what was done to us... I just couldn't take a chance on it happening again. That night, there was a lot of 'he said; she said,' and Mike and Tanya spun our perception of events to fit their agenda. I couldn't bear it if I failed this time. There's strength in numbers, and it would be hard to pull the wool over the eyes of an entire church full of people."

"So you wanted to make sure that events weren't twisted again?"

"Yes. You were about to marry Tanya—I couldn't let that happen without you knowing the truth. Even if you had no interest in me, I wanted you to know what really happened that night, and I needed you to know how I felt about you. It's the only way I could see being able to move on with my life."

Warm fingers touch my face, nudging gently until I turn and look into his emerald eyes. He cocks his head slightly to the side. "How _do_ you feel about me? Tell me." His voice is as soft and velvety as ever, and I'm transported back to _that _night—before it all went wrong—and I feel a throbbing start between my legs. It's all I can do not to moan out loud.

"Oh, Edward. I never got over you. Mike was always there to pick up the pieces, and at the time, I thought it was because he was a good guy. I had no idea what the motivation behind it all was. He was so sympathetic, and he seemed to understand that I wasn't fully available. He kept telling me it would come in time."

Tears fill my eyes, and I try to blink them back. This _hurts_ to talk about even though I'm sitting here, holding Edward's hand in mine. The past is gone, and I should be able to leave it where it belongs, but I'm having a tough time doing so.

A tear spills over, and I try to turn my face away so he doesn't see.

"Don't. Don't hide from me, Bella."

I fight the urge to turn tail and run, forcing my eyes back to his. "I'm sorry. This is so hard for me." I shake my head, swallowing hard. "Several weeks ago, I realized my life had been colorless for the past four years. It hit me when I saw a guy that looked a lot like you, and my heart started racing, my palms sweating. Four years later, I'm still getting heart palpitations over someone who looks like you or walks like you—it just wasn't fair to Mike, so I broke it off with him. When I told him that I couldn't commit my heart to him because it belonged to someone else, he knew right away that I was talking about you. That's when he dug up the old recording and gave it to me.

"Edward, I never got over you. I know my feelings are based on a few months of flirting and one night of making out, but I can't control it. When Mike told me about the wedding... I cried for two days straight. The thought of you marrying _her_, the very person that destroyed _our _chances, left me sick with dread. Mike encouraged me to tell the truth. He admitted to being fairly certain you had feelings for me, too."

Edward snorted. "I'm sure Tanya told him about that night in his yard."

"What do you mean?"

"I _saw _the two of you, Bella! I saw Mike pressing you up against the shed—right where I'd just been minutes before—with his hands up your shirt, and you... had your leg hitched around his hip. It felt as though I'd been kicked in the balls. And Tanya was right there to lend her assistance in picking up the pieces." He shakes his head, a disgusted look marring his handsome features.

"You _saw_? Oh, God, Edward... that's even worse than I imagined." My heart breaks for the younger version of Edward that was forced to watch me making out with Mike when I'd promised to meet _him _back by the shed.

"I'm not going to lie, Bella—it fucking hurt seeing you with Mike. I was devastated, and I never really got over you, either. Yes, I did love Tanya, and I _did _ask her to marry me... but there was a part of me that was always looking for you, comparing her to you. In fact, I'm ashamed to admit that a part of me was _hoping_ you would show up today. Just before you stood up, I was panicking, afraid I was making a huge mistake." Edward laughs bitterly. "And that's _before_ I found out that I didn't really know the woman I've been living with for the past few years."

My heart starts thudding in my chest at his admission, and I feel I must make another of my own.

"Edward, I explained why I waited until your wedding to come forward... but that isn't the only reason. A part of me _wanted_ to embarrass Tanya, to destroy her happiness like she did ours. I know that's awful and selfish..." I break off, breathing hard as I hang my head in shame.

Edward's reaction surprises me. "I'd call it understandable. If I was in your place, I don't think I'd have been able to stop myself from doing some physical damage." He chuckles.

"How can you laugh about this, Edward?" I look up at him incredulously.

Edward smiles at me warmly, rubbing his knuckles over my cheekbone. "Bella, this is the most horrendous thing that's ever happened to me. I can try to find the humor, or I can fall the hell apart. The thing is, even though what was done to us was heinous, awful and heartbreaking... I'm sitting here on a rock with my hands on the woman I should have been with from the beginning. I've been given a second chance—_we've _been given a second chance—and I'm thankful for that."

Taking in his words, I know that he's right. This storm will pass, and in its wake, Edward and I will find our way together. A tear spills over, but this time, it's a happy one. Swiping it away, I grab Edward's hand and squeeze it.

"So... you're not upset with me for waiting until Reverend Weber said, 'Speak now or forever hold your peace?'"

"No, Bella. I'm just so thankful I didn't marry that viper." Edward shakes his head. "How in the world did I spend_ four years_ of my life with her and never really know her at all?"

I notice my butt going numb from the coldness of the stone beneath me, and I shift uncomfortably. Looking around, I realize that nightfall is only a few minutes away, and I shiver. I've been so enthralled with talking to Edward, I didn't realize the sun has almost dipped completely below the horizon and the temperature's dropped several degrees. I glance back at Edward, and he's beautiful and magnetic even in the bluish light that coats and distorts everything around us now. And he wants to try with me. What I never believed possible is now happening.

"Penny for your thoughts," he says softly.

"I just realized how dark it's getting, how numb my ass is on this cold rock... and how beautiful you look in this light." I can feel the blush creep over my skin as I say this.

Edward stands up, pulling me with him, and tugs me in close to his body. Lifting my chin with a finger so I'm looking up into his face, he smirks. "Shouldn't _I_ be the one telling _you_ how beautiful you look in this light? How beautiful you look in any light?" His expression grows more serious. "How relieved I am that you showed up today and that you're willing to take a chance on me?"

My breath catches. He has no idea, and I don't think words could convey to him just how hard things have been for me. I never got over him at all, and even though I kept telling myself that one hot make-out session with a boy in high school does not a fairy tale make, my heart never bought it.

"Edward, did you... think of me at all over the past few years?" I'm afraid to hear the answer, but I need to know.

He cups my face in his hands, moving in closer, and I can feel his warm breath on my face. "Always, Bella. I thought there was something wrong with me, and I had to keep reminding myself that you didn't want me, that it was just one night against a shed in Mike's backyard."

"Really?" My voice squeaks, and my heart starts pounding.

"Bella, I thought of you today... before the wedding. I wished... Well, I thought I saw your hair outside the window—it was just a flash of mahogany, and I immediately thought of you. Part of me hoped you would show up."

"Oh..." I breathe out in awe. "That _was_ my hair... outside the window. I was peeking in at you."

Edward rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, and his eyes are intense—I can see this even through the gloom. "Bella..." he whispers, bringing his lips down to mine.

Sparks shoot through me as his mouth brushes lightly over mine. His kiss is light as a feather, but it has as much impact as it would if he'd crushed himself against me. My heart speeds, my breathing grows shallow, and my fingers grasp his wrists, holding his hands to my face.

He continues with the butterfly soft kisses, his lips slightly parted, and I can taste him on my tongue. He's so familiar because I've dreamed of his scent so often over the past four years, and I realize just how well-preserved the memory of that one night was. The impact of that has a profound affect on me, and I realize I'm willing to go wherever this leads me. How could I not when I have a chance for true happiness? If it doesn't work out, I will be no worse off than I was before, will I?

Edward pulls his hands away and wraps his arms around me, cradling my head against his chest. "We're going to be okay, Bella. Somehow, we will."

"I know," I whisper, snaking my arms around his waist and hugging him back for all I'm worth.

"You're shivering. Why don't we get back to the cottage?" Edward kisses my forehead then holds his hand out to me. We walk back to the cottage, hand-in-hand, a comfortable silence between us.

When we arrive, my handbag is vibrating wildly on the breakfast bar. I pull my phone out to check the display. Five missed calls from Charlie.

"Oh, shit," I whisper.

"What?"

"Charlie—my dad. I was hoping to talk to him before the rumor mill got started."

"He doesn't know you're here?"

"Um, he does now."

"Well, where are you staying?"

"I was planning to head over to Charlie's. All my stuff is still in the rental car." I silence the alerts on my phone, dropping it back into my bag. "I'll deal with him when I get there... I really should go," I sigh.

"Okay, I'll walk you out." Edward grabs my phone and programs his number in then calls his phone with mine so he has my number. "Can I see you... tomorrow?"

"I'd like that," I say shyly, busying myself with gathering my things.

We walk out front to the rental, and I put my things on the passenger seat. Edward waves his hand when I try to give him the hoodie back, and I'm secretly happy that I'll be able to smell him on me.

"I want to take you out, Bella. We never had the chance... to do things right."

"You mean like a date?"

"Yes. Many dates. We need time to get to know each other." He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it, sending pleasant shivers down my spine. "I don't want to rush anything; I want to take my time and savor you."

_Oh, my God. _The man makes me swoon. My insides feel like they've turned to jelly, and I just nod my head.

Edward holds the door open for me, and I start the car. He leans in the window and kisses me slowly, cupping the back of my head.

"See you soon, Edward." Rolling up the window, I put the car in gear and slowly back up.

"Bella! Wait!" Edward yells out, jogging over to the driver door.

I roll the window back down. "Did I forget something?"

"Don't go," he says breathlessly.

"What?" I put the car in park and look up at him.

"Don't leave. Stay here with me. I'm not ready to be without you yet." Edward reaches in and shuts off the engine, pulling the keys from the ignition. "Stay here tonight." His eyes capture mine, burning with intensity.

"Edward... I don't..." My voice is unsteady, and I don't know what he means by asking me to stay the night.

"Oh!" Edward rubs at the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I would never... I mean, you can have the bed, Bella. I just want you near me, that's all."

And I wasn't looking forward to being away from him, either, so I agree, and my things are brought into the cottage. I know how this will look if Tanya should come back, but I'm beyond caring.

When we get back inside, I play my messages—all hang-ups except for one.

Charlie's gruff voice comes through the speaker. "_Isabella Marie Swan, what in tarnation have you gotten up to? And why am I hearing about it from everyone but you? We need to have a talk, young lady. I hope you know what you're doing. And if what I've heard is all true... well... good for you!"_

Edward and I both start laughing, and I decide that my conversation with Charlie can wait until morning.

Edward builds a fire in the living room and then makes us grilled cheese sandwiches while I heat up a can of soup. We eat at the breakfast bar, and there's not much conversation happening, but it's a comfortable silence. I think the adrenaline has left us both physically and mentally devastated, and I can't stop yawning no matter how much I try to stifle it.

"I was going to suggest a movie, but I see you're about as tired as I am. Why don't we hit the hay early? I think we'll feel much better tomorrow."

"Sounds good." I yawn again.

Edward moves all my things into the master bedroom, insisting that he can sleep on the futon in the den. He kisses me goodnight in the doorway; a chaste kiss with no strings attached.

Looking around the huge room with an admiring eye, I'm tempted to soak in the Jacuzzi tub in the en suite, but I decide to pass. I'm just too tired. Yawning again, I barely manage to change into a tank top and shorts—I never could stand wearing traditional pajamas—and slide under the sheets before I'm dead to the world.

Sometime during the night, I wake up, disoriented. Focusing my eyes, I see a sliver of moonlight shining through the window onto the hardwood floor. After a moment, it all floods back to me, and I realize I'm in Edward's cottage. Shifting slightly, I realize I'm not alone—there's a warm body pressed up against my back, an arm encircling my waist. Wait, what?

I turn my head slowly, looking behind me. Edward is snuggled up behind me, his face buried in my hair. Even the small amount of movement I make causes him to tighten his arm around me. "Mm-mm, Bella..." he murmurs.

Tears fill my eyes, and I lay my head back down, entwining my fingers with his over my midriff, and slip into the first truly peaceful sleep I've had in four years.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I know in my head that sleeping in separate beds is the right thing to do. That's the only thing keeping me lying flat on my back on the futon in the den. Sleep eludes me, though; I can't make the replay of the afternoon and evening stop. As I look up at the ceiling of the cottage, Bella's worried voice plays over and over in my head. _So, you don't think you'd ever… take Tanya back? _Her question caught me off guard, and I'd actually dropped the f-bomb when I responded to her. But at the time, I honestly didn't understand how she could possibly have thought that me taking Tanya back was even an option. Of course, Bella didn't know—until our talk in the woods—that I'd already been questioning the wisdom in marrying Tanya today. While having my wedding interrupted wasn't an easy thing to have gone through, it was the best thing that could have happened. Bella saved me from making what would have been a mistake—the biggest mistake of my life. She did today what I should have done months ago. I wasn't in the right frame of mind to marry Tanya, and I should have known better than to have gotten as far as the altar today.

Rolling over, I punch the pillow, trying to get comfortable. It's a fruitless attempt for two reasons. First, I haven't slept alone in nearly four years; Tanya wasn't exactly a cuddler, but even just having her in the bed with me somehow allowed me to sleep better each night. Second, I know that Bella's in the other room, and I desperately want to fall asleep with her in my arms. Doing so would be inappropriate, though. The internal struggle keeps me awake for hours despite my exhaustion.

I sigh and sit up on the futon, running my hands roughly through my hair. There's no reason to continue lying on the thin, uncomfortable mattress if sleep isn't happening. Sitting up seems to magnify my tiredness, and I rest my head against the back of the sofa. No sooner do my eyes slip closed than Bella's words drift through my mind again. I have to show her that she's my choice. She was _always _my first choice. I pad across the hardwood floor to the bedroom. _I'll just peek in, make sure she's okay. No harm in that. _She's so innocent and peaceful in her sleep; I can't pull my eyes away. Time stops as I stand there, just watching her; it could have been two minutes or two hours. All that matters is being in her presence.

"Edward… please don't leave me. Please…" Her voice is thin, almost wispy sounding, and I know that she's still asleep, but that doesn't matter. If her subconscious mind still thinks that I'm going to somehow choose Tanya—or anyone else—instead of her, I have to do everything in my power to make her feel safe and secure. It doesn't feel like a choice anymore; she put herself, her reputation, on the line by coming back to Forks today, and if she thinks for even one second that I don't value the risk she took, then I'm going to prove her wrong.

Before I've even made a conscious decision of how to do that, I find myself slipping into the bed behind Bella, wrapping my arms around her slight waist, and burying my face in her chocolate curls; one deep breath of her scent, and I fall asleep, happier than I've been in four years.

**~SN~**

The sunlight streaming through the filmy white curtains wakes me gently in the morning. It takes a moment to remember where I am, but after a cursory glance around the room, I remember—my mother's cottage in the woods. The fact that the small house is set in a good-sized clearing in the middle of the forest was part of its allure to my mother. She loves waking up with the sun warming her face—when it decides to make its rare appearance on the Olympic Peninsula, that is—and the fact that the trees are close enough to provide plenty of privacy, and yet far enough away to allow the sun in, was in her top five favorite things about the cottage.

I feel more rested than I have in months, maybe years, and I take a moment to pause and think that through. Why is today so different?

_Bella. _With that one word, memories flood my mind.

Are those memories real? Did she—the one I've truly wanted all these years—really come to the Abundant Mercy Church yesterday and stop me from marrying Tanya?

I search the room for some sign that it wasn't all a terrible dream, that it's not Tanya in the bed with me. The space next to me is empty, so that doesn't provide me any clues. I wiggle the fingers on my left hand underneath the sheets and quilt; it feels normal. Carefully bringing it out of the covers, I glance at my hand—no ring. The sigh that whooshes out of my lungs is one of relief. I spot my suitcase over by the door, alongside another that I only vaguely recognize. It's not Tanya's; I know that for sure. She and I had a matching set. All the evidence is suggesting that my memories aren't deceiving me… the lack of wedding ring on my finger, the mismatched suitcases by the door…

The shower in the adjoining en suite turns off, and I realize that I didn't even notice that it was on. It's several minutes before the door opens, bringing with it a gust of steam and a gorgeous _brunette. _"Bella. It's you," I breathe, thrilled and yet somewhat shocked that everything I remember from the previous day actually is real.

She smiles at me and somehow looks even more beautiful than she did just a second ago. "I know. I wasn't entirely sure this was all real when I woke up this morning either." She approaches the bed and sits down next to me, taking my hands in hers. "But it was—it is. Everything we went through yesterday actually happened. And now we're here, together. And I can't think of anyplace I'd rather be." Her smile is infectious, and I can't help but return it.

"I'm not sure where we need to go from here," I tell her honestly. I know what I'd like to do with her—to her. But I remind myself that we're only just beginning here; moving too fast will be disastrous, and I don't want to lose Bella again. _Slow and steady wins the race, Cullen. Take it slow and steady with her._

"Well, as much as I'd love to stay in that bed with you all day," she starts, smirking down at me, "I think I probably need to go talk to my dad. I have no idea who told him I was here; it could have been anybody in the church yesterday, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that he _does _know I'm here, and he deserves an explanation—a thorough explanation from me, not simply whatever half-story the townsfolk have told him."

"Do you want me to come with you to talk to him?"

She frowns slightly, thinking. "I don't know. I mean, of course I _want _you to, but at the same time, I think I might need to talk to my dad on my own. I know his voice mail sounded… what, proud?" I nod and smile, remembering the message from the night before; 'proud' is a pretty apt description of Charlie's tone in the message. "But I think I need to tell him the same story I told you. He never disliked Mike, but I think he always knew that I wasn't quite happy, either. A good father/daughter talk is definitely in order."

"Okay, fair enough," I tell her. I can completely understand her desire to have this talk with her father. "Do me a favor though? Don't go until I take a shower? I kind of need a ride to my parents' house, since we rode here together in your rental."

She giggles, and it's music to my ears. "Deal."

When I emerge from the shower twenty minutes later, the smell of bacon greets me. I can't keep the grin off my face as I walk into the kitchen. "Something smells good."

Bella turns, startled, but she recovers quickly and returns my smile. "You're just in time." She swiftly places two plates on the breakfast bar where we ate our grilled cheese and soup last night. This time, it's fried eggs, crispy bacon, and sourdough toast.

"This looks great, Bella. You didn't have to cook, though."

"I know I didn't _have _to; I wanted to." She hands me a fork.

"Thanks." The food tastes even better than it looks—or smells. Like last night, we eat in a comfortable silence. It's nice to not feel like we _have _to talk every minute of the day; Tanya always had something she wanted to talk about–whether it was our relationship or the new shoes she just bought. I kind of like the quiet that Bella provides.

When the food is gone and the dishes are clean, it's time to leave the cottage. Bella heads for the door while I go back to the bedroom to gather our luggage; I'd like to come back here with Bella again tonight, but I'm not sure that's going to happen. It's best to bring the suitcases; _be prepared _and all that.

I nearly crash into Bella when I walk out the door. I'd expected her to be in the car already, but she's just standing on the stoop, looking out into the forest. I follow her gaze and realize that it's not the trees she's looking at. The Toyota has been defaced; the word _WHORE _has been spray-painted on the white paint of the passenger side in broad strokes of blood-red; _TRAMP _is painted on the back windshield, and _HOMEWRECKER _is on the hood, all in the same shade of crimson as the dress Tanya wore last night. My mind is blank as I take in the scene before me. I feel like I should somehow comfort Bella, but my eyes are raking all over the car, taking in the damage.

Only two people knew that we were in the cottage last night. One was my mother; the other was Tanya. I _know _my mom would never do something like this, and honestly, I never thought Tanya capable of it either. It's just one more instance of me not knowing her true personality. _I can't believe I got as far as the altar… _

"God, Bella, I'm so sorry," I finally manage to choke out. "I can't believe she did this." My voice is quiet as I work through the shock of the situation.

"Do you think it was Tanya?" I can barely hear Bella; a whisper would have been louder than the tone she just used.

"Without a doubt," I reply darkly. "She and my mother were the only ones who knew you and I were here together, and my mom was in support of me and you talking. Besides, I'd like to think that Mom's a little more mature than to spray-paint a car." It was meant as a joke to lift the mood, but my voice isn't light enough to pull it off; neither of us even crack a smile.

"What am I going to do? That car's a rental. I'm going to be on the hook for the damage."

Logic is my strong suit, and if I can't make her feel better with a joke, I hope I can with the facts of the situation. "You got the insurance that the rental company suggested, right?"

She looks up at me, and I can see the tears that have pooled there; I can also read the determination in her face. She's trying hard not to let this bother her, but struggling. "Yeah, of course I did. If I only learned one thing from my dad, it's the importance of insurance."

"Well, I'd think this would be covered, then. I mean, I guess I don't know for sure, since it's the rental insurance, but it would definitely be covered if it was a private policy on your own car. You shouldn't worry about the cost until you talk to the rental agency. That's what insurance is for, though. It's not like you asked for the car to be vandalized or did it yourself. Even if it's not covered, it's my fault that this happened; I'll pay the damage."

"How is it possibly your fault? I came all the way here from frickin' Florida and busted up your wedding. You had no idea I was coming, much less _why. _If anything, it's my fault for coming here in the first place."

I set the suitcases down on the stoop and cup Bella's chin in my hand. "Hey, hey, hey, don't say that. You did a noble thing here, Bella. I don't want you regretting it, not one bit. Yeah, it was a bit of a shock, but I'm over it. No, I mean it," I assure her when her eyes close in disbelief. "I've told you this already; I'm _thankful _I didn't marry Tanya yesterday. She's a cold-hearted, manipulative bitch, and I should've seen through her act a long time before I did. Besides, you were leaving last night, and I asked you to stay, remember?"

I can tell this is still a difficult conversation for Bella, and that thought is confirmed when she speaks again. After a deep breath, she opens her eyes and completely changes the subject. "You really think the insurance will cover it?"

"Like I said, I don't know for sure, but I think so. Of course, that doesn't help in the short term. I don't really see any way out of driving the car like that. Unless we just stay here for a few more days." I waggle my eyebrows suggestively.

This time, my joke carries a little better; Bella bursts out laughing. "Okay, you can't do that." She barely manages to get the words out through the giggling and is pointing at my forehead. "Seriously, that eyebrow wiggling… that's about the funniest thing I've ever seen." I laugh with her at her synopsis of my action.

After a few minutes, we've finally calmed down, and I bring us back to the situation at hand. "Tell you what. I'll drive again, and when we get to my parents' house, you can take my car to your dad's."

"Really?" I nod. "Thank you, Edward."

With the luggage in the trunk of Bella's rental, we climb in and make the short drive from the cottage to my parents' house. I'm secretly glad we don't have to go into the town of Forks to get there; I'd do it for Bella, but driving the defaced car is a little embarrassing.

When we reach the end of the quarter-mile drive, I keep going, past the house and out to the garage where my Volvo is kept. Handing Bella the key that I've just dug out of my pocket, I point out the right car.

"I know which car is yours, Edward," she says, giggling. "It's the same one you had in high school."

"Yes, it is," I reply, chuckling gently. I shift the Toyota into park and turn toward Bella. "So, when am I going to see you again?"

"Sometime tonight, I think. You mentioned something about a date?" She smiles coyly.

"Yes. Yes, I did." I can't keep the grin off my face.

"Good. I'll call you in a few hours after I talk to my dad, okay?"

"Okay."

She turns to get out of the car.

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you again for coming here and keeping me from making a mistake. I think I'll be indebted to you for as long as I live."

She reaches over the center console and grasps my hand in hers. "I'm just glad you didn't tell me to get lost." She lifts my hand to her mouth and places a gentle kiss on each fingertip before releasing my hand and climbing out of the car. I watch her enter the garage and pull my Volvo out of its spot, and we wave to each other as she pulls past me, down the driveway. When I can no longer see the glint of silver from my car in the rearview mirror, I pull the Corolla into the spot the Volvo just vacated and cut the engine.

I sit in the car for at least half an hour, just thinking. Finally, I climb slowly out of the rental car and walk back to the main house. _Time to face the family._

**~SN~**

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**A/N: You know you have something to say after all that... probably multiple somethings. Ready, aim... fire away!**

**For those who've been asking, we plan to continue updating this story every 1-2 weeks, and we're ahead a few chapters.**

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter. Please note that if you have PMs disabled, you won't be able to receive review replies/teasers.**

**Psst... Wendy has a new story coming out in the next week or so called **_**'Music of the Heart.'**_** As her beta, and having read the first several chapters, I say you need to put her on your author alerts. It's an AH, E/B story with James as his usual lovely self.**

_**There will be a special outtake of 'Speak Now' featuring Mike and Tanya gifted for the Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness in June.  
**_

**Sarita would like to recommend a story this week. **_**'Strawberry Wine'**_** by Kas90. It's an AH E/B fic that has too few reviews. Please check it out, and let the author know where you heard about it!**

**Wendy's (wmr1601) blog is: www . wmr1601 . wordpress . com **

**For more of Wendy's stories and information you can check out her profile, wmr1601, or her collab profile with Caz at wmrcaz.**

**Sarita's blog is: www . saritadreaming . wordpress . com **

**Sarita is working on several multi-chapter stories (double forehead slap) and Fandom Gives Back projects which are listed on this profile.**

**Sarita is finishing an update of '**_**Broken Windows**_**'** **this week and beginning work on the next chapter of **_**'I Want It Painted Black**_**.'**

**Join us on Twitter! (at) SaritaDreaming (at) wmr1601**


	9. Chapter 8 Focker

**A/N: **** Thanks again, everyone, for your enthusiasm, pimping and encouragement for our story! We enjoy reading each and every review. It's amazing how some readers are so tolerant of the 'humanness' of our characters while others are incredibly critical. Just know that we appreciate all of you and your opinions. These characters _are_ flawed, just like most of us are/were at one time or another.**

**Huge thanks to our pre-readers, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for their invaluable input and friendship and to Jess (jkane180) for her beta skilz. Mwah! **

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**Chapter 8**

**~Focker~**

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**~*Bella*~**

On the way to Charlie's house, I find myself driving much slower than normal. I think it's because I need to process all that's happened in the past forty-eight hours. Although I'm happy that Edward is back in my life, a lot of stress is attached to recent events, and my heart is beating faster than normal, my breaths shallow.

A few blocks away from Charlie's, I pass the park he used to take me to when I was a child. It has no name—it never did. Everyone just called it 'Green Street Park' because of the road it was on, and I wonder if the local kids still use the nickname.

Since my nerves are jangling, I pull to the curb, deciding to sit in the park and think for a few minutes. Today, I'm wearing jeans and a t-shirt with Edward's hoodie—he insisted I take it, and I wasn't about to argue. I sit on a swing, and before I know it, my legs are pumping me higher and higher until I feel as if I'm flying. It's exhilarating, and for a few moments, I'm a child with no worries again. My hair blows forward then streams back on each pass, and the movement of the swing is hypnotic. The metal chain biting into my skin brings a nostalgic feeling, and I know my fingers will come away smelling like metal.

Eventually, I allow the swing to slow until it stops, and I hop off, heading toward the monkey bars. When I reach the top, I huddle down in Edward's hoodie, breathing in his masculine scent, which pleases me but also pulls my mind back to the matters at hand.

It didn't escape my notice that neither of us mentioned Edward crawling into bed with me last night. He was probably afraid to mention it for fear that I'd be angry, and I was ashamed at how happy it made me to find him there, how natural it felt. Even though we'd just met again, and there was a lot of drama surrounding us, things were comfortable with Edward—I felt at ease in his presence. I'd always felt different with Edward than with anyone else—at least until we'd had our falling out in high school and he'd stopped talking to me.

This isn't going to be easy, and when Tanya returns from her trip to Fiji, she's bound to make trouble—that's a fairly obvious assumption after seeing the damage she did to my rental car. I also recall how vicious she sounded when she was arguing with Edward at the cottage and the way she acted at the church. My blood boils all over again when I think about the cold-hearted way she plotted against Edward and me in high school—as though it was more of a business deal than screwing with someone else's future. She had Mike _drug_ me, for heaven's sake! What if I was allergic to the GHB? I wonder if she would have cared so long as I was out of the way. Well, if Tanya Denali thought I would step aside so she could take another shot at Edward, she had another think coming.

The cool breeze is biting, so I climb down from the monkey bars and head back to Edward's car. It warms me that he let me drive the Volvo instead of that horribly defaced rental. Another lick of anger runs through me when I think about Tanya out there spray painting the car during the night. The spiteful part of me hopes she peeked in the window last night and saw Edward in bed with his arm wrapped around me. It would serve the bitch right.

When I pull up in front of Charlie's and see that he's home, I'm both relieved and disappointed at the same time. Most weekends, he gets up early and goes fishing with his best friend, Billy Black. Part of me was hoping he wouldn't be home, and I could put off this conversation a while longer. I know my father will support me no matter what, but I'm hoping he's not disappointed in me. Nobody looks forward to telling their father what I'm about to tell mine, no matter how understanding they are.

I look up at the little white house where I spent most summers and my senior year of high school. It looks much the same, but the white clapboard could use a power-washing, and there are some weeds peeking up between the cracks in the concrete walkway that leads up to the front porch. Charlie never has been good at taking care of himself, and I'm willing to bet he's back to eating at the diner and letting his clothes pile up until he's forced to spend a whole day washing them.

Before I reach the front steps, the door is flung open, and there stands my father in the doorway. He's wearing his usual weekend uniform of a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt layered over a t-shirt; today it happens to be burgundy and gray plaid over light gray. He looks as handsome as ever, only a few strands of gray marring his jet black hair.

"Bella," he says with a sardonic smile, "so nice of you to finally show your face."

"Sorry, Dad." I hang my head. How do parents manage to make one feel like a chastised child with a simple look or a word?

"Well, come on in, and let's have us a talk, young lady." He tries to look stern but fails miserably; his mustache twitches as he attempts to keep a smirk at bay.

"Oh, stop it, old man," I mutter with a laugh as I follow him inside.

I examine the house as I walk in, looking for signs that he's not taking care of things. It's surprisingly clean and tidy. Charlie notices my perusal of the house.

"Oh, uh, I've been having somebody clean up a little around here," he stutters nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck, which he only does when he's nervous or uncomfortable.

"Oh?" I cock an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah. Sue Clearwater's been doing some light housekeeping for me." If I didn't know better, I'd say my father is _blushing_.

"Sue Clearwater... from the Res?"

"Yeah."

"Something I should be aware of, Dad?"

"Don't be changing the subject there, Bella. What the heck is going on with you and the Cullen boy?"

"The Cullen boy?" I giggle, feeling like I'm on an episode of 'Little House on the Prairie' or something.

"What's his name... Edwin?"

"Ed-_ward,_" I correct.

"Whatever," Charlie grouses, leading me into the kitchen. "You hungry? Thirsty?"

"No, thanks. I just had breakfast."

I glance around the room, and not much has changed. The cabinets are still painted a sunny yellow—a color my mother chose in an attempt to brighten up the room—although I can tell they've been repainted fairly recently. It has the same old, worn linoleum floor from the 1960's, which came all in one big sheet, rendering you unable to replace a bad section easily. There's a particularly worn-down section in front of the window looking out into the back yard, as if someone spent an inordinate amount of time waiting or watching for something.

Charlie has all 'serious talks' in the kitchen. I'm not sure why, but that's the way it's always been. I sit across from him, fiddling with the cuff of Edward's hoodie nervously.

"Dartmouth, huh?"

"What?"

"You're wearing a Dartmouth sweatshirt." Charlie raises his eyebrows, pinning me down with his cop stare.

"Um, yeah. It's Edward's; he lent it to me."

"Didn't bring a jacket all the way from sunny Florida, huh?"

"Can we just... get on with this, Dad?" I huff, looking him directly in the eye without looking away for the first time.

"Okay, let's start with what I heard around town. I heard that you busted up _Edward's_ wedding yesterday. That true?"

"Yes, it is." I lift my chin slightly. Maybe it's a bit taboo to break up a wedding, but I know I was in the right.

"Want to tell me why, honey?" Charlie asks gently. "I know you're not an impulsive girl, so there must be a good reason."

I realize that the real 'truth' wouldn't have gotten around town because very few people knew the whole story. All my dad would have heard is that I _interrupted_ the wedding but not why. I can only imagine the rumors that are floating around, the speculation that must arise to fill in the empty space left by unsatisfied curiosity.

"I did have a good reason, Dad. Wow, this is going to be harder than I expected—I've never had to tell you something like this before."

"Honey, whatever it is, we can deal with it together," Charlie assures me. "When's the baby due?"

"The _what?_" I choke out. Of all the things my dad could have said, that isn't what I was expecting.

"It's okay, Bells. Your mom was pretty young when she had you; I know how it is. I just wish you'd waited until you were _married, _but..." he shrugs.

"I'm _not_ pregnant, Dad! What gave you that idea?"

"Mrs. Stanley did. So... you're _not_ carrying Edwin's love child?"

"Ed-_ward_, Dad," I huff in exasperation. I know damn well he knows Edward's name now; this is just his way of taking Edward down a peg or two when he's not even here to defend himself. Mrs. Stanley is going around telling people Edward knocked me up? _Fuck my life._

"Yeah, whatever. Well?"

"No, Dad, I'm definitely_ not _carrying Edward's love child. How could you believe anything Mrs. Stanley says? She's the biggest gossip in town!"

"Calm down, and tell your father what really happened." Charlie folds his arms with his elbows firmly planted on the table and waits, his dark brown eyes earnest.

Steeling myself, I open my mouth, unsure where to start. But as I begin speaking, the words tumble over one another, coming faster and faster. I have no more control over what spews out of me than I would over a car careening down a steep hill with no brakes. It _all_ comes out. At some point, and I'm not entirely sure when, tears start a steady stream down my face. As my story pours out to a relatively uninvolved party, I allow myself to really _feel_ all of the emotions for the first time—without filters. The grief, betrayal, disappointment, anger—tempered by a glimmer of hope for the future—all mingle together until I find myself in a heap on my daddy's lap. I'm not even sure when I got out of my chair and moved over to his side of the table, but as I finish my twisted tale of woe, my dad's arms are wrapped tightly around me, and he's rocking me the way he did when I was little girl with a skinned knee.

"Ah, Bells. I'm so sorry you had to go through this all alone. Why didn't you say something?"

Embarrassed, I climb off Charlie's lap and stumble over to the counter to grab a handful of napkins to wipe my face and blow my nose. Keeping my back to him, I gaze out the kitchen window that faces the side of the house, and from this angle, I can just make out my favorite spot in the corner of the yard—a little hidey-hole created by a small grouping of trees and bushes. The entrance isn't very noticeable during the months when the vegetation is lush, and when you duck inside, there's an open area where you can be surrounded by a cocoon of wood and leaves that shield you from the outside world. I used to bring a blanket to lie out on the moist ground under there and spend hours inside my secret place, thinking, dreaming, reading, and writing in my journal. I long to be out there now, but I know that running away isn't the answer.

"I just couldn't talk about it, Dad. It's really difficult."

"Yup, I expect it is. So, where are you staying?"

"I was, um... hoping to stay here, if you don't mind." I turn to face Charlie, bracing my hands against the counter behind me.

"You're always welcome here; you know that. Where have you _been_ staying, though?"

"I, uh... stayed at Esme Cullen's cottage last night. With Edward." I wince, once again feeling like a child.

"Oh..." Charlie whistles through his teeth. "So, that's how it is?"

"No! We didn't... do anything. I mean, we talked, but..."

"Bella, you slept there last night, you show up wearing his sweatshirt... I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know, Dad. We're going to try to move forward together. We lost four years because of what Tanya instigated."

"You could forgive Edward so easily for writing you off without giving you a chance to explain yourself? I have to wonder what kind of guy he is." Charlie always tells it like it is, and my stomach sinks just a little. "And don't forget, you kissed him _once_ four years ago. Do you think that's really enough to build a relationship on?"

I don't mention the other kisses we've shared since I interrupted the wedding. "It's not just that, Dad. It's the way I _feel_ whenever I'm near him and the way his touch sends shocks through me." Saying it out loud, I feel silly, and I know that there's probably no way my practical father is going to understand.

"I get it. I do." He nods his head, swiping a hand over his face with a deep sigh. "How do you think I felt about your mom? Renee was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen, and there was a special connection with her... but you see how that worked out. I'm not trying to discourage you, honey, but I think you need to move with caution."

"Okay, Dad. I promise to be careful."

"There's also the matter of what Tanya Denali did to you. She can do jail time for that." My father's eyes harden, and I can sense the cop in him peeking out.

"Tanya didn't actually _do_ anything. Mike's the one that drugged me."

"Maybe so, but Tanya suggested it, _and_ she provided the drug. She most certainly could be charged with conspiracy."

"But it happened four years ago..."

"There's a five year statute of limitations on conspiracy, Bells. This falls well within that time frame."

Do I want to send Tanya to jail? The temptation is great, but I know from the experience of being a cop's daughter that jail sentences are rarely served in full, and offenders are frequently slapped on the wrist and set free with a warning. Do I want an angry-as-a-hornet Tanya, who's just been through the humiliation of having her permanent record marred, to deal with while I try to forge a relationship with her ex-fiancé? I'd rather stick my head in the mouth of a hungry, salivating lion.

"No! I don't want to press charges right now. If I do change my mind, I have up to the five year mark, right?"

"Yup."

"Good to know." I chew my lip thoughtfully. Perhaps the threat of jail time might keep the devious shrew at bay. "I'm going to get my stuff out of Edwards' car..." I drift off, realizing that I left out part of the story.

"Edward's car?" Charlie raises his eyebrows.

"Um, yeah. Well, last night someone spray painted graffiti on my rental, and Edward didn't want me to have to drive it around town like that... so he lent me his car." There. That wasn't too bad, and I didn't tell the whole thing.

"Uh huh. And what _graffiti _was done on your car—in Forks, of all places—in the middle of the woods, at Esme Cullen's cottage hideaway?"

_Shit._

"Someone wrote some words on the car. But I'm sure the rental insurance will cover it."

"What words?"

"Um... whoretrampandhomewrecker." I say it so fast it comes out as one big, long string of mashed-up insult.

"Oh, boy. Looks like Tanya Denali is going to be trouble. Do you want me to pick her up and have her questioned?"

"No. You can't anyway... she's on a plane to Fiji right now."

"_Fiji_?"

"Yeah, she took the tickets that were intended for her honeymoon with Edward."

Charlie shakes his head and slaps a hand on the table as he gets up. "Wow. This is too rich for my blood. So much drama," he mutters then opens his arms wide. "Come give your daddy a hug, huh? I think I need one as much as you do after all that!"

Giggling, I snuggle into my father's embrace, breathing in his cologne. He smells exactly the same as when I was a child, and I close my eyes, pretending that I'm five and life is as simple as a hug and a cuddle after yet another trip over an invisible obstacle. Even as a young child, I was accident prone.

"Let's get your stuff out of the car and get you settled in."

We walk out to Edward's silver Volvo—the same one he drove in high school—and my heart speeds up in response to memories of seeing it back then... how I longed to talk to the driver and ask him what it was I did that caused him to stop speaking to me. Again, anger effervesces inside me when I think of Tanya and what she got away with for four years. Have you ever wished you could go back in time armed with the knowledge of an older you? My mind wanders into a daydream where I discover Tanya's deception and pummel her in front of everyone. I'm not a violent person by nature, but this fantasy causes a wicked smile to spread across my face.

"Bells!" My father's voice snaps me out of my reverie.

He's standing by the trunk of Edward's car, loaded down with my suitcase, duffel bag and the sombrero that Renee brought me back from her trip to Mexico. A snort of laughter escapes when I look at the colorful hat perched on Charlie's head.

"A sombrero, Bells?"

"Renee brought it back from Mexico." I shrug.

"Why is it _here _with you, though?"

This question prompts me to look down at my feet, all laughter forgotten. "Because I don't think I'm going back to Florida, and I took almost everything with me when I left Mike," I say quietly.

"Oh, boy." Shaking his head, Charlie shuffles into the house, his shoulders weighted down by my most prized possessions and God only knows what else.

I follow him upstairs to my old room. He puts my stuff down and, without a word, shuts the door gently, leaving me to my thoughts. Everything looks exactly the same as it did in high school, and this, too, brings back bittersweet memories. Maybe I should get out some of my old journals and read them over; it might be painful, but I probably need to remember how I felt back then. A frisson of fear niggles at the pit of my stomach... fear that it really is too late for Edward and me. That we're trying to take a spark from four years ago and turn it into a life. A big part of me understands how devastated Edward must have been when he saw me making out with Mike—God knows, I was when I saw him kissing Tanya the Monday after the party—but if he'd only told me why he was upset, we could have cleared the whole thing up. Then again, I could have persisted when he brushed me off instead of accepting that it was over before it even started.

I grab my old bear, Misty, off the rocking chair in the corner and hug her soft white body against my chest. Lying down on the bed, I fall asleep with her in my arms.

**~SN~**

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Rubbing my eyes sleepily, I hear a vibration from the nightstand beside... my bed at Charlie's house? The memories slip into place one by one, and I remember.

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

My cell phone shimmies slowly across the wood, heading for the edge. I grab it up, and see that it's Edward calling. My heart leaps in my chest, and I can hardly breathe.

"Hi."

"Hey, beautiful." Edward's sexy velvet voice caresses me through the phone. "Sorry to bother you, but I... didn't hear from you. Is everything okay?"

A glance out the window indicates that dusk is fast approaching. Where has the day gone?

"Oh, shit, Edward! I'm so sorry! I fell asleep." I sit up, stretching, and yawn widely.

"Do you want to skip going out then?" he asks, disappointment evident in his voice.

"No, of course not. I've just spent the better part of the day sleeping."

"Great. So... what time can I pick you up?"

"I have your car; maybe I should pick you up."

"Nope. I have another car in mind for our date. Wear something pretty, and don't eat dinner."

"Where are we going?" I'm curious now, and my mind starts running through what 'pretty' things I have in my suitcase.

"Not telling you. How did it go with your father?"

"It was... interesting. We can talk about that later. Give me an hour? I'd like to shower."

"Sounds good. And Bella?"

"Yes?"

"I can't wait to see you." His voice is low and sexy. "I've been thinking about you all day."

"I can't wait to see you, either. Um... have you seen 'Meet the Parents' by chance?"

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"You're Focker." I giggle.

"Oh, shit. Is your dad going to be okay with us dating?"

"Edward! I'm too old for my _daddy _to tell me who I can date. He _might _be cleaning his shotgun when you get here, though. He's all bark; don't be nervous."

"Okay then... see you in an hour." He definitely sounds nervous.

After hanging up with Edward, I giggle some more. My dad will for sure give Edward a hard time when he gets here. I'm not sure why I'm so amused by this, but I am.

Feeling lighter, I unzip my garment bag, which holds my nicer clothes. I choose a long-sleeved burgundy knit dress. It hugs my curves in all the right places and hits a bit above the knee. It's not something I'm ashamed to wear in front of Charlie, but I'm pretty sure it's going to catch Edward's eye. I smirk to myself when I think about what's ahead when Edward picks me up. _Focker._

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

Knowing that I've already talked to my family about what happened yesterday does nothing to calm my nerves or make me want to get out of Bella's defaced rental car in the garage. When I talked to them before, they were just as shocked at the whole situation as I was; now, we've all had nearly a full day to process all of the information. Plus, they know that Bella and I spent several hours together at the cottage. They don't necessarily know that we spent the night together, but between Alice practically being psychic and Emmett just being nosy, it will undoubtedly come out before the conversation is over.

Difficult or not, I have to go in there and face the music, so to speak. I climb out of the car, shut the garage door using the automatic opener, and leave the stand-alone structure through the door at the side of the building. I'm torn between wanting to avoid the upcoming conversation and a desire to just get it over with. After a few heavy steps on the path between the garage and the house, 'getting it over with' wins out, and I pick up my pace.

I still view this place as 'home;' I still have my key, despite the fact that I live in New Hampshire nine months out of the year. Because of this, I don't feel the need to knock on the door before entering the house, especially since the knob twists easily when I try it. The other five members of my family—both parents, Alice, Emmett, and Rosalie—are sitting in the living room, and I get the feeling that they're talking about me based on the sudden hush that falls over the room when I enter. Standing in the doorway, I look around, locking eyes with each of my family members in turn.

My mother is the first to break the silence by standing and striding over to me quickly, her heels clicking as she walks across the hardwood floor. I somehow never realized in all my years that the floor here matches that of the cottage. Before the thought has time to manifest any further than that, Mom's arms are wrapped tightly around my mid-section. I've been taller than her since I was fifteen years old, and she stretches up on her toes now to whisper in my ear. "I know that this is a taboo thing to say at this point, but I'm glad you didn't marry Tanya, Edward. I would've put up with her—for you—but it's so much better that I don't have to."

I chuckle at my mom's words. I've always suspected that my mom didn't like Tanya, but she's a good actress and never let on that she had anything but love for her.

My mother releases me and holds my hand as she pulls me into the room; she seats me on the couch between herself and my father, making me feel like I'm eight years old again.

"So?" Emmett says suggestively. "How'd things go last night with _Bella_?" The way he emphasizes Bella's name is almost comical; I can read his thoughts clearly through his tone.

"We just talked," I say in direct response to Emmett's question but to the room at large. "We both realize that we have a lot of crap to work through, but we're willing to give it a try." I shrug, not sure what else to say.

"Edward," my father starts, "are you sure that's the right course of action? I probably should have said something yesterday, but there was just so much emotion in that room that it honestly escaped me. I know you have that recording, and based on that alone, I have no problem with you not marrying Tanya. Frankly, I think that was the right decision. But to start something new so soon after having been standing at the altar? This just doesn't sound wise to me, Son."

"The thing you don't understand, Dad, is that Bella's my 'it' girl. If I hadn't been such a douche in high school—"

"Edward!" my mom cuts me off, obviously offended by my language.

"Well, I'm sorry, Mom, but there's no better word for the way I acted. Anyway, if I'd just listened to my gut instead of the lies Tanya was feeding me, I would have given Bella a chance back then. I wish I had." _The wedding would have had the right bride and wouldn't have been interrupted if I'd behaved appropriately back then. _It's with that thought that the guilt hits. _This was my fault just as much as it was Tanya's. Shit! What did I do? _"Hey, guys, I need to go think for a while, okay? I'll be around later to talk some more." I get up and leave the room swiftly, not giving any of them a chance to say anything.

By the time I've reached the front door, Emmett's right there with me. "Let me come with you," he insists. "You need to talk through things now; you don't need to do it with everyone, but you do need someone. Let me be there for you, bro."

I look into his eyes and see his sincerity; he's not pushing himself on me, and if I say 'no,' he'll back off. My brother is my best friend, though, and he's right; I_ could_ use someone to vent to right now. I nod infinitesimally at him, and we walk together through the front door and down the porch steps.

We make our way across the yard and into the woods that eventually lead to the cottage. Right now, I have no destination in mind; I just need the clear, clean air to breathe and the time to process things.

"What's going on, Edward?" Emmett asks after we've walked in silence for five minutes. "You kind of freaked out back there."

I'm not sure how to express what I'm thinking, so I remain silent for another minute while I gather my thoughts before responding. "This is all my fault. The whole screwed up situation is _my fault._" There are no other words to say; nothing else is appropriate, and I can hear the despair in my voice.

We haven't stopped walking yet, but at my confession, Emmett halts abruptly. "How the hell is this possibly _your _fault? You're the biggest victim of all here."

His tone is convincing, until I remember what put the guilt in my mind in the first place. "If I hadn't been—"

"Yeah, yeah, you behaved poorly four fucking years ago. How does that make you guilty now?"

I sigh. This is so clear to me; how can he not get it? "If I'd just given Bella the chance she asked for back then, I would never have settled for Tanya, and Bella would never have been with Mike. If only I'd fucking listened to her instead of Tanya, how different would my life be today?" I run my hands roughly through my hair as I lean against a large oak tree. Its rough bark against my back is a welcome discomfort—I don't deserve to be comfortable right now.

"Just because you don't like the way things are going today doesn't mean it's not right or that it would even have turned out differently if you _had_ listened to her. Who's to say Bella would have kept your sorry ass around all this time, anyway?" He grins at me, so I know he's teasing, but his words just plant another reason to be worried into my head.

"Oh, fuck! You're right! What if she doesn't really want me? I totally get that she wanted to let the truth be known, but what if that's it?"

"Okay, you need to stop for just a minute. I can't help you when you get like this, Edward. Back up and explain things to me. You're obviously going through something major here, and I get that; you have every reason in the world to be insecure right now, but damn… What the hell happened between you and Bella last night that's got you wigging out so bad now?"

I slide down the rough bark of the tree until I'm seated on the mossy ground. After a few deep breaths, I recount everything for my older brother: how things seemed so natural with Bella, the small things we shared overnight—everything from the walk in the woods to listening to Charlie's voicemail to the tender kisses, even how I'd climbed into the bed with her—and ending with the defaced car we'd found this morning. Emmett lets out a low whistle when I describe Bella's rental.

"It sounds like the two of you have been through a lot together in the past twenty-four hours, then," he says when I'm done talking. "You've still got a long way to go, but you're making strides in the right direction. And it definitely doesn't sound like she's just going to leave you high and dry. I mean, if you've been kissing her, and she's been kissing you back, and you guys fucking slept together—"

I cut him off. "Only in the literal sense. There was no _fucking _going on."

"Sure, whatever. That's not the point, though. Whether you had sex with her or not, sharing a bed is kind of a big deal, Edward. What did she say about it when you guys woke up this morning?"

I think back—it seems like it's been a million years since I woke up alone in the bed. "Nothing." It never even crossed my mind before that we hadn't discussed the fact that we'd shared a bed. It was just the most natural thing to do at the time, and in that moment last night, sleeping on the futon in the den was _not _an option.

"Nothing?" I can't tell if he doesn't believe me or if he's just confused by my answer.

"No. She was already asleep last night, and neither of us mentioned it this morning. It wasn't in a that-didn't-happen way, though. It was more like of-course-it-happened-not-being-together-isn't-an-option type of thing. Does that make sense?"

"It does." He looks contemplative for nearly a minute before speaking again. "You were right before, then, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you told Dad that Bella was your 'it' girl. I can see in your face that you're not totally over what happened yesterday, bro, but I can also tell that even in your guilt, you're happier than you've been in four years. Four years is a long time to be unhappy."

"I wasn't—"

"Whatever, dude. You can deny it all day long, but I'm right. You were _not _happy with Tanya, no matter what you say." I start to contradict him again, but he continues, barreling over me. "Seriously, Edward, there's nothing you can say that's going to convince me otherwise."

My impulse is to argue my point again, but I opt instead to think over what he just said. _Was _I unhappy? I can't reconcile the fact that I truly had loved and trusted Tanya—which I know to be the truth; until yesterday, I had no reason not to—with the fact that perhaps my brother's right. Love and trust aren't necessarily the same as happiness. If I was happy, why was I so miserable yesterday, both in the dressing room and even going so far as wishing that something would happen to prevent me from marrying Tanya? _Did_ I even love her? I think I did; I hope that I'd never be so rash as to propose to someone I didn't love. I realize that I've had these thoughts before. I _did_ love Tanya, and nothing, not even admitting that I wasn't happy, can change that fact. She broke that trust before she'd even earned it, though. That's a bizarre thought, but it's the only way to explain things. She hadn't done anything recently to betray me; her breach was from before we were technically together. The jumble of thoughts gives me a headache.

When I lift my gaze to meet Emmett's eyes, he examines my face for about five seconds before breaking out into a huge grin. "You get it now, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," I reply slowly. "Kind of."

"Kind of is good enough for me," he says, reaching one hand out to me. I grab it, and he pulls me up off the ground.

We walk back to the house in silence, and Emmett fidgets the whole way; I get the impression that he wants to talk some more but is leaving me to my thoughts. I'm grateful to him for that because I know that after the way I took off so suddenly, everyone else is going to want some sort of explanation from me; I need the few minutes to mentally prepare for that.

Surprisingly, no one mentions anything else about Bella or my odd behavior from earlier for the whole rest of the afternoon; it's just a normal, Cullen family afternoon, like the kind we share every time I'm home from school.

**~SN~**

I call Bella later in the afternoon, and the conversation starts out innocently enough, but before it's over, I'm frightened to the center of my being. _I'm Focker? Oh, dear God, please don't let that be true. Focker got royally screwed in that movie. I'm not sure I can take it in stride like Ben Stiller did either. _Bella's asked for an hour to get ready, and I spend that time worrying about being interrogated by Jack Byrnes, aka Police Chief Swan. _Fuck! This is going to be even worse than _Meet the Parents_; Charlie has a gun. And he 'might be cleaning it?'_

Taking a cue from Bella, I decide a shower might not be the worst idea in the world. Standing in the spray, I let the water scald my back; I'm going to need to be tough-skinned if _I'm Focker. _The hot water does nothing to calm my nerves, and I'm just as nervous when I get out as I was when I went in. I quickly dry off and drape the towel around my hips for the walk from the bathroom to my childhood bedroom, where my suitcase lies open on the bed. There's nothing in there that's appropriate for my plans for this evening—I've told Bella to dress nicely, and it would be tacky of me to show up in denim shorts and a Hawaiian print shirt with sandals after that. Fortunately, I didn't take my entire wardrobe with me to Dartmouth; I find a suit in the closet—white shirt, black slacks, matching jacket, and a royal blue tie—and put it on. Socks are a bit trickier; none of those got left behind. I pull my cell phone out of the pocket of my jeans and send a quick text to Emmett requesting a pair. I realize it's absurd to send him a text message considering we're in the same house, but I'm not quite ready to face the rest of the family yet. I'll have to before I leave, but I at least want to be fully dressed before I do.

I hear Emmett's bellowing laugh drifting up the stairs from the living room, and I know that he's just received my message. "Yeah, I'll be right there, E," he hollers. True to his word, he bounds into my room less than two minutes later, black socks in hand. "Where the hell are your socks?" He laughs.

"In New Hampshire," I reply, taking the black ball from him and unrolling the socks. "I wasn't going to need them in Fiji, so I left them at my apartment."

"Ah. That makes sense. So you're going out with Bella tonight?"

"Yeah… Listen, about that. I was wondering if I could borrow your Vanquish. Bella's got my car at her dad's place, and I don't really want to drive the vandalized Toyota. Plus, I kind of already promised her I'd pick her up in a hot car."

"And what would you do if I told you 'no' right now?"

"Beg?"

"Fuck. No one wants to see you beg, E, especially me. Here." He digs the key out of his pocket and hands it to me. "You know that car is Rose's pride and joy, though. If you so much as burn out a headlight, there'll be hell to pay—for you _and_ me. Don't make me have to hurt you after."

I grin at my brother; he'd never hurt me. Rose, on the other hand… I shudder. "I'll be careful," I promise. "Here, just in case." I hand him the key to Bella's rental.

"What the hell is this?"

"The key to the rental. Like I said, just in case."

"Didn't you also say it was vandalized?"

"Yeah. Tanya spray painted epithets all over it."

"Yeah, no thanks. I'll be fine until you get home. Just remember that it's my car; no overnight trips this time, all right?"

"Deal," I agree. I sit on the bed, pull on the socks that Emmett's brought me, and slip into my black dress shoes, glad that I left them here. Emmett and I descend the stairs together, and I offer a quick explanation to the rest of my family that I'm going out for the evening.

"With Bella?" Alice asks.

I narrow my eyes at my sister; I wanted to avoid the grand inquisition that would surely come if they all knew the nature of my plans. "Yes, with Bella." There's no real way to lie since it was a direct question; I can never lie to Alice anyway.

My mother reads my body language, though, and offers a quick smile and ushers me out the door before anyone else can say anything about my date. When it's just the two of us standing on the front porch, she leans in and kisses my cheek. "Have a nice time, dear. Just remember that you were supposed to have been married to someone else yesterday. Not that I'm complaining about the canceled wedding because I'm just as glad as everyone else that you didn't marry that—" She cuts herself off before uttering something derogatory about Tanya. She may not have liked my former fiancée, but she's incapable of saying bad things about people. After taking a deep breath, she tries again. "Don't take things too quickly, dear. It's been a whirlwind couple of days for you; you need to keep your head about things. I don't know what's going on between you and Bella, but it just all seems very sudden to me. I don't want to see you get hurt again."

Placing my hands on my mother's shoulders, I look into her eyes. "I'll be careful, Mom." I'm not lying to her, but at the same time, the speed with which things are moving between Bella and me is the least of my worries. My talk with Emmett in the woods was all the reminder I needed that I'm doing the right thing.

It's been ages since I've driven Emmett's Vanquish, and I'd forgotten how much I _love _this car. Driving through the streets of Forks, it's like the car can somehow read my thoughts. Each turn I make is smooth and effortless; I hope I can one day buy a car like this. It's almost enough to make me forget the interrogation that awaits me at Bella's dad's house—almost. The promise of the movie-style inquisition that awaits me is impossible to forget, though.

I've got a few minutes to spare before the hour's up and it's time to pick up Bella, so I stop at the local florist shop and purchase a bouquet of flowers. The stop is just enough of a delay to put me at Chief Swan's house exactly on time.

Holding the flowers, I knock nervously on the door. My breathing picks up, and for the second time today, I feel much younger than my twenty-two years.

Bella answers the door, wearing a dark purple dress that stops at her knees and fits her like a glove. My mind goes blank as I take in her appearance, raking my eyes up and down her body; not a single thought is forthcoming.

"Hi," she murmurs, reaching for my hand. Her voice pulls me from my non-thoughts.

"Hi," I rasp out, then immediately clear my throat. "You look… amazing."

"Thanks. So, this fits your definition of 'pretty,' then?"

"Yeah, definitely." Still holding my hand, she pulls me into the house. I've never been in here before; our relationship in high school ended before it had gotten to the 'meet the parents' stage. _Shit! Meet the Parents! _"Um, so am I still Focker?" My voice betrays my wariness at the idea of this meeting.

Bella giggles. "Oh, yes. But like I said before, don't worry. He's all bark."

"Bells! Who's at the door?" Charlie's voice booms from the kitchen area.

Bella rolls her eyes. "As if he doesn't know," she mutters. Then says louder, "It's Edward, Dad. He's taking me out tonight, remember?"

"Right, right," he says. "Well, aren't you going to introduce him?"

"Not Focker, not Focker," I mutter to myself as quietly as I can.

"What?" Bella asks, looking at me.

"Nothing," I lie. "Let's go meet your dad."

Charlie is, indeed, cleaning a shotgun when we enter the kitchen. I'd hoped Bella had been joking about that, but I'm somehow not surprised that she wasn't. I swallow noisily as he flicks his wrist and the gun loudly clicks into place. "Da-ad," Bella admonishes him, stretching his title into two syllables. "Honestly, are you trying to scare him?"

"Of course not," Charlie says, smiling wickedly. Or maybe just smiling; the wicked part is probably in my imagination. I hope so anyway. He stretches his arm out, offering me his hand. I grasp it nervously, hoping my own hand isn't shaking. "Nice to meet you, Edwin."

"Oh, for the love of… Dad, we've been over this. His name is Ed_ward._"

"It's okay, Bella; he can call me whatever he wants. Edward Cullen, sir," I say, somehow gaining my resolve and shaking his hand firmly.

"Have a seat, Edward," Charlie says, gesturing toward the chair across from him with his gun.

I do just that, placing the bouquet in my lap. I'm not entirely sure why I haven't given Bella the flowers yet, but now just doesn't feel like the right time; the surprise is obviously ruined, but I decide that regardless of that, it will be better to wait until the conversation with Charlie is over before presenting them to her.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this," Bella mutters.

Charlie ignores her. "So, Bella tells me that the two of you want to try starting a relationship," he begins.

"Yes, sir." I figure formality is my best bet at getting on his good side, at least until he warms up to me.

"And this is all based on one kiss several years ago?"

This feels like a trick question, so I think for a moment before answering. "Well, sir, I'm not going to lie to you; it _did _start like that, but there's more to it than just that single kiss. I was just talking to my older brother about this very issue earlier today, in fact. There's something about Bella that just holds me captive every time we're together. It's hard to explain; the term I used earlier—to my father, when he asked me this same question—was that she's my 'it' girl." I don't divulge additional information about our other kisses, just in case Bella hasn't told him everything that's happened; I don't want to embarrass her.

"Your 'it' girl?" Charlie looks skeptical.

"Yes, sir."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"Dad," Bella whines. I glance up at her—she's been standing beside me since the moment I sat down in the chair her father offered me just a few moments ago—and see that her face is crimson. I grasp her hand with the one that's not keeping the bouquet from sliding off my lap and onto the floor, giving it a squeeze.

"It's hard to explain, Chief Swan," I begin. "There's just something about Bella that makes me… _happy _whenever she's around. And when she's _not _around, I'm a mess." I remember all of my insecurities this afternoon as proof to myself that these words are true.

"What about that girl you were going to marry yesterday? Wasn't she an 'it' girl?"

I sigh. "I hate to say it, sir, but no, she wasn't. I realize now that I shouldn't have been with her as long as I was, and I really shouldn't have gotten as far as the altar, but what's done is done. If I could go back four years and listen to Bella instead of Tanya, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I'm just glad Bella was brave enough to come here and stop me from making what would have been the biggest mistake of my life."

"Hm. You seem to have all the right answers," Charlie mutters, not sounding very happy about that at all. I can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth, and, glancing at Bella out of the corner of my eye, I see that she's also fighting a grin.

"Thank you, sir."

"You need to know, Edward, that when it comes to my baby girl, I'll do anything to protect her. Right now, what she wants is you, so I'm going to reserve judgment, at least for the time being. But I'll be watching you." He actually channels Robert de Niro in that moment, making a V with his fingers and pointing them first at his own eyes and then at mine. "I'll be watching," he repeats, then gets up and leaves without another word.

"Holy shit," I mutter when he's gone. "You weren't kidding about Focker."

"Told you," Bella replies, giggling and sitting down on my lap. I manage to barely move the flowers out of the way in time. "You did well, though. I mean, he wasn't kidding about the 'I'll be watching you' nonsense, but you impressed him with your answers. I know he didn't act like you did, but it's the truth, I promise. I know him well, and he was definitely impressed with you."

"Well, that's a relief, I guess."

"So, are you ready to go now?" she asks.

"Almost. Here, these are for you." I pull the flowers off the table and hand her the bouquet.

"Thank you, Edward," she replies, smiling.

I place a gentle kiss on her lips, but before it can progress past chaste, there's a loud throat clearing from the doorway.

"Watching you, Edwin," Charlie barks, repeating the eye-pointing.

"Yes, sir," I say, not sure what else would be appropriate.

"Let's get out of here," Bella whispers, rolling her eyes and picking up the flowers. She's up off my lap in an instant, pulling me back through the kitchen and out the front door. On our way past her father, she hands him the flowers. "Would you mind taking care of these for me, _Jack_?"

"Jack?" Charlie asks, but Bella doesn't respond verbally, only looks at him pointedly. "Oh, right." He chuckles in recognition at her reference, but we're gone before he mentions it.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: So, what do we think of Charlie's reaction to all this? As always, we love to hear the reactions of our awesome readers.**

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	10. Chapter 9 Some Things Never Change

**A/N: So sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out to you. It's all Sarita's fault for being out of town for two weeks.**

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**Chapter 9**

**~Some Things Never Change~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

While Charlie grills Edward and generally makes an ass of himself, I watch with fascination. With Edward's full attention on my father, I'm free to ogle him without fear of being observed.

Edward is always stunning, but in that suit... I'm left speechless. Despite the fact that Charlie is hell bent on giving Edward a hard time, I can tell that he's impressed with him. Charlie can appreciate a man who dresses nice, brings flowers, and is brave enough to face down the Chief of Police while he's cleaning a weapon.

When Charlie calls Edward '_Edwin_,' I have the urge to cuff him on the back of the head—just like the five year old he's behaving like. But Edward takes that in stride as well, never missing a beat.

As I lean in the doorway, my mind drifts, and the voices of the two men that matter most to me are just white noise. My eyes are riveted on Edward—his smooth-shaven jaw, the tilt of his head, his green eyes burning with intensity over something he's telling my father—and once again, I thank God that I have a second chance with him. My attraction to him is stronger than ever, and my fingers itch to touch him, to tangle in that_ hair_—yeah, he still has sex hair. I've always been fascinated by his long fingers running through it, which is an unconscious habit he has when he's deep in thought, frustrated, or nervous. My thoughts turn to how I want those long fingers all over me, and I press my legs together as a blush blooms over my chest and face.

Throwing off my inappropriate thoughts, I move closer to Edward's chair to stand beside him. I'm thankful he didn't notice me gaping at him; it would likely just distract him from dealing with my annoying father.

As I come back to reality, I catch the tail end of what Edward is saying to Charlie. "...earlier today, in fact. There's something about Bella that just holds me captive every time we're together. It's hard to explain; the term I used earlier—to my father, when he asked me this same question—was that she's my 'it' girl."

"Your 'it' girl?" Charlie booms with a scathing look.

"Yes, sir." Edward's Adam's apple bobs slowly as he answers.

"What the hell does that even mean?" Charlie snaps.

"Dad," I chide. He's really taking this too far, and I can feel the heat as my face turns a deeper shade of red. _How old am I?_

Edward squeezes my hand in his—even while he's being run through the wringer by my father, he's concerned about me.

Charlie continues with his third degree, questioning if Tanya was also an 'it' girl. Edward bites the bullet and admits that Tanya was wrong for him, that he never should have reached the altar with her. I'm so glad to hear him say that because it's been on my mind. A part of me did love Mike, but the longer we were together, the more apparent it became that I was never going to be _in_ love with him. But Edward... he made it all the way up to the 'I do' part, and if I hadn't stood up, he'd be in Fiji right now, lying on a beach with Tanya—making love to his new wife. I've been trying to ignore this thought when it creeps up on me, but it's there. Maybe I just need some time.

"Hm. You seem to have all the right answers," Charlie says, and he almost seems disappointed that there are no heads to crack.

I try to hold back a grin as Edward's lips turn up at the corners; one thing my father doesn't like is feeling as though he's being laughed at.

Charlie gives Edward the 'she's my baby girl' speech—_cringe—_and then for the ultimate embarrassment, he does his best de Niro impression. I'm mortified, and I'd like nothing better than to curl into a ball and disappear. Thankfully, Edward has a great sense of humor.

"Holy shit. You weren't kidding about Focker," Edward murmurs as soon as Charlie has left the room.

"Told you." I giggle. Plopping down onto Edward's lap, I reassure him that he did fine, and my father was suitably impressed. Edward finally hands me the bouquet of flowers he's been clutching in one hand or the other since he got here. They're in remarkably good condition considering the workout he's been giving them. They're a mix of colorful wildflowers, my favorite—although Edward would have no way of knowing that.

Edward pulls me in for a kiss, and my heart starts thundering in my chest. Before we have a chance to deepen it, Charlie clears his throat loudly from the kitchen doorway. "Ahem! Watching you, Edwin," he repeats, pointing his fingers between them again.

Rolling my eyes, I suggest we go before my father finds some other way to embarrass me. I tug Edward by the hand, leading him past my father. As we go by, I smack my father in the chest with the flowers, and he instinctively catches them. "Would you mind taking care of these for me, _Jack_?"

"Jack?"

I glare at my father, who quickly understands that I'm referencing 'Meet the Parents,' which is one of his favorite movies. He has an unhealthy obsession with Jack Byrnes, believes he's the best thing to come on the scene since sliced bread. Did he really think he was fooling anyone with that de Niro impression?

Edward and I walk out the door, and I see an unfamiliar car sitting out front. It's sleek and black with tinted windows. _Totally hot. _My mind could go so many places right now... but I find myself still annoyed with my father.

"Edward..." I stop walking, tugging back on his hand "...do you mind waiting out here for just a sec?"

He turns to look at me—those eyes!—and I forget for a moment why I wanted to go back inside.

"Sure, Bella. Did you forget something?"

"Yes. I forgot to demand respect." I set my jaw and walk away, leaving Edward with his mouth hanging part way open.

I march back into the house, slamming the front door. Charlie has already taken up his post in the wing-back chair—beer in hand and bag of chips close by—waiting for the game to start. He looks up, startled as I stride in front of the TV and turn it off.

"Bells! What the –" He stops when he sees my expression, immediately looking contrite. "Come on, Bella... you know I can't let you go with just anybody."

"There's just one problem with this whole thing, Dad. I'm not seventeen anymore!" I hiss through gritted teeth.

My mind drifts back to the way he scared Mike when we were about to start dating.

_Mike came to pick me up, and I brought him into the kitchen to meet Charlie—who just happened to be cleaning his service pistol at the table. Mike paled immediately and started stuttering._

"_H-Hi, Chief S-Swan. Sir." He gulped loudly._

"_So, you think you're good enough to take my daughter out, huh?" Charlie asked, squinting his eye through the site of his gun._

"_No, sir." Mike shook his head. "I mean, yes, sir. I – I, um..."_

_Charlie tipped back his chair, balancing it on two legs, and stared hard at Mike while rubbing his jaw. He stared until Mike turned pale and clammy... and then stared some more._

"_So are you or are you not good enough for Bella?"_

"_Pr-probably not, sir, but I really like her, and I promise to do my best to be worthy of her." _

_Charlie seemed to like that answer, and he patted the chair next to him. "Take a seat, son. I'll show you how to put a service revolver back together..."_

Snapping back to the present, I see Charlie gaping at me. "Come on, Bella. Cut your old man some slack."

"No."

"I'll try to be nicer to Edwin next time, okay?"

I glare at him, and the twinkle in his eye lets me know he's well aware that he called Edward by the wrong name _again_.

"Dad, you need to respect that I'm an adult now. I'm old enough to make my own choices, and you need to trust in me."

"I _do _trust you, Bells—it's everyone else that I find suspect. Chalk it up to the cop in me, okay? If Ed_ward_ can't take a little ribbing from your old man, then he's not worth it."

I realize this is the best I'm going to get from Charlie right now, and I don't want to leave Edward standing outside any longer than necessary. With a final warning look, I turn the TV back on and give Charlie a wave.

"What time do you think you'll be home?"

"I have no idea. Maybe not at all," I answer with a cocked eyebrow and a hand on my hip, my flashing eyes _daring_ him to say something.

Charlie remains stoic; he simply nods and takes a long draw off his can of beer.

_Point goes to me._

Making my way down the front walk, I take in the sight of Edward leaning against the sleek sports car, looking like a model off the cover of GQ. Again, I'm struck by how handsome he is.

"Is everything okay, Bella?"

As I reach him, he takes my hand in his. He's always touching me, and I love that. It embarrasses me that I crave his hands on me all the time—in a way, I still fear he's going to disappear, that I'll wake up to find out he really did marry Tanya and belongs to her now.

"Yeah. I just needed to clarify a few facts with my dad. Let's get to our date; I don't want Charlie's bad behavior to ruin our evening."

Edward smirks, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "Nothing's going to ruin our evening, Bella. Your father loves you—he just wants to make sure you're okay."

"He had no right to treat you that way, though! Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?"

Edward brings our joined hands up to his lips, kissing my knuckles, which sends shivers of pleasure all through me. My breath catches, and my heart begins to pound. He has the same exact effect on me he did in high school. His sexy green gaze meets mine over my hand, and I know I'm in big trouble. My feelings for Edward are moving too fast, I'm too attached, and I'm afraid to get my heart broken again.

Once we're both settled into the buttery soft leather seats of the car, he pulls slowly away from the curb. As we turn the next corner, he takes off like a bat out of hell, and I'm forced to hold on for dear life.

"Whoa! Somebody is a speed demon..." I look at him askance.

"Yes, well, Emmett rarely lets me drive the Vanquish, so I intend to fully enjoy the experience. Plus, I'm dating the Police Chief's daughter—he wouldn't throw me in jail, right?" Edward's lips pull up into a smirk.

"I wouldn't count on that..." I snicker. "Charlie is opposed to favoritism."

We drive for a few minutes, a comfortable silence between us, and this is another thing I love about Edward—I feel at ease with him even when we're not speaking. His thumb rubs gently over the back of my hand, keeping the electricity flowing.

"So, where are we going?" I ask curiously.

"It's a surprise."

"But I don't like surprises!" I pout.

"I think you'll like this one." Edward sounds confident.

He's already one hundred percent accurate—I don't care what we do as long as we do it together. Togetherness reminds me of all the issues we have to work through—such as living several states away from each other. I try not to allow insecurities about our living arrangements room to creep in. During Spring Break, we can see each other whenever we want, but after these few weeks are up, reality will come crashing down. He'll have to go back to Dartmouth... where Tanya is. And I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. My body stiffens, and Edward glances over at me when he feels the tension between our joined hands.

Before I know it, he's pulling to the side of the road and putting the car in _park_. Unbuckling the seat belt, Edward turns to face me, tightening his grip on my hand. He looks down at me—yes, even in the car, he's so much taller than I am—and his eyes are slightly troubled.

"Bella, I owe you an apology, and I want to get it out of the way before we continue our date."

"Apology? For what?"

"For, um... climbing into bed with you during the night. That was inappropriate."

"Well, if it was, then I enjoy being inappropriate. I can't deny that I was happy to wake up during the night wrapped up in your arms, Edward. Does that make me horrible?"

Edward swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly. He seems surprised by my response, as if he was expecting something completely different. Reaching his other hand up, he caresses my face lightly. "There's nothing horrible about you, Bella Swan."

His fingers elicit zings of electricity under my skin, and my heart starts to pound. How can the simple touch of someone's fingers have such a physiological effect on me? But they're not just any fingers—I've never been affected by anyone like this before—this is all Edward.

He tilts his head, still touching my face and continues. "I couldn't sleep last night. All I could think about was you. My only intention was to check on you, but when I saw you... I couldn't stop myself from slipping under the covers. Once I felt your warmth, there was no way I could tear myself away."

"I forgive you, Edward—on one condition."

"What's that?"

"That you promise to do it again some time." Grabbing the hand that's touching my face, I place a kiss in his palm.

I hear Edward's indrawn breath, and his eyes darken. I love the way his eyes darken with strong emotion—right now, I'm thrilled that it's passion and not anger that's the cause.

Edward cups my face in his hands, bringing his lips so very close to mine that we're breathing the same breath. "I promise," he whispers.

And then there's a moment that seems to stretch on forever, even though in actuality it's only seconds. His mouth is hovering there, right over mine, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. All thoughts are quiet as I wait with anticipation for his kiss—I've only felt anticipation of this magnitude one other time in my life—the night of the party, in Mike's backyard. Part of me knows that I'll never feel _this_ with anyone else. If things don't work out between us, this feeling will be forever lost to me. I'm willing to take the chance, to put my heart on the line. What's that phrase people throw around? _It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all._ I've heard it said so casually, but it's true. And that's the moment I realize that I love Edward Cullen—that I've loved him since high school. I also know that I'm going to fight for him, and I intend to win this time.

My thought process is obliterated when Edward's lips finally touch against mine. They brush across, light as a feather, and that's all it takes to melt my insides. My hands reach out, finding the crisp cotton of his shirt, the silkiness of his tie... the heavier weight material of his suit jacket. I slide my hands up into his tousled hair, reveling in how soft the strands feel between my fingers. Soft, just like Edward's touch.

He pulls me closer, his hands moving to lightly rest on my back. His kisses are still gentle little whispers fluttering against me. I want more of him. Heat builds inside me, and I clamp my thighs together.

"More, Edward," I whisper.

I don't have to ask twice.

Edward's lips move over mine, and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. The moist warmth of his tongue drags ever so slowly over my bottom lip, and I lean in closer, opening my mouth under his. He slides his tongue slowly into my mouth, teasing it against mine.

My fingers tighten their grip on his hair. I feel so much, and I don't know what to do with it. I feel torn—part of me has loved Edward for four long years, while the other part is vulnerable and scared because this is so new.

Gentle little kisses are pressed along my jaw until I feel his warm breath in my ear. "Relax, Bella. I know this is hard, but I'm here—and I'm _going_ to be here."

"I know that, Edward. I do."

His tongue lightly traces the shell of my ear, and sensations explode through me that I've only ever felt just before climaxing. Is it possible to have an orgasm by having your ear licked? Your lips kissed? I'm embarrassed when I hear a soft moan, and I realize it's coming from me.

"Bella, I know we just found each other again, but I want you to know you mean so much to me. Just being near you the past few days made me realize that what I had with Tanya was a sham. Even if she hadn't turned out to be a lying, scheming bitch, I never felt for her a fraction of what I feel for you."

"Why did you stay with her... you were going to marry her, Edward." It's something that's been on my mind, and since he brought it up, I ask.

Edward sighs deeply. "I settled. I thought you were lost to me, so I settled for Tanya. It's pathetic, but it's all the explanation I have, Bella."

"I settled, too," I remind him.

"No." Edward shakes his head. "Not the way I did. Even without knowing the truth, you were leaving Mike. Maybe it's something inside me that doesn't want to look like the family fuck up. Everyone in my family is happily paired off, and perhaps I wanted to belong instead of being on the outside. I just don't know." Pulling back, he grinds the heels of his hands against his eyes.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You can't turn back the clock—all we have is what's before us. I want nothing more than to move forward with you, Edward. I'm not making any judgments—I don't see how that would help anything, do you?"

"That's what I want, too, Bella." He takes my hands in his. "I want to spend time with you, get to know you—I want to snuggle up behind you and fall asleep with you in my arms more often."

My breathing hitches. "Oh..." This man will be the death of me yet with the way he makes my heart do all these funny little flip-flops.

"I don't mean anything sexual by that—although, I can't deny... well..." For the first time, I see Edward turn as red as a tomato.

I put a finger up to his lips to stop him. "It's okay. I understand exactly what you're saying, and there's nothing I'd like more. I haven't slept so well in..." I hesitate, looking down before finishing, "...a really long time." Truthfully, it's been four years, but I just don't feel comfortable telling him so.

A crooked grin spreads across Edward's face. "Me, too," he whispers. "A long time."

We're in silent agreement to continue on our date now that we have some of the heavy stuff out of the way. With the tension gone, the rest of the ride is pleasant. Edward pulls me in close, holding me against his side as he drives, and I lay my head on his shoulder, feeling content.

On the drive, I tell him about my initial conversation with Charlie and how Mrs. Stanley informed my father that I was carrying Edward's love child. Edward nearly chokes, but when he sees that I don't mind, he laughs loudly—the first honest-to-goodness belly laugh I've ever heard from him. By the time he stops the car, I'm nearly in tears, doubled over and gasping for breath. When I describe Charlie with the sombrero perched on his head, we laugh even harder.

"Here we are," Edward says when our laughter has calmed.

We're parked near the docks in Port Angeles. Then I see a white sign with fancy blue writing.

_~Port Angeles Dinner Cruises~_

_Fine Dining and Dancing_

_~Reservations Required~_

"No way!"

"Do you like boats?" Edward raises his eyebrows.

"Oh, my God... I've always wanted to go on one of these!" I squeal, throwing myself into his arms.

"I'll take that as a yes."

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I suspected that Bella would be amenable to the cruise—considering the rumors around town that her father is an avid fisherman; surely she practically grew up on a boat—but her reaction is even better than I hoped. As she throws herself into my arms, I make a mental note to thank Alice—again—for giving up her tickets for me, especially considering I spent most of the day avoiding my family, save for Emmett. Alice really came through for me this time, though. I carefully set Bella down on her feet, taking care to keep our hands joined.

We approach the boat, and I remove the tickets from the inner pocket of my suit jacket, handing them to the man standing on the shore. "Welcome aboard," he says, gesturing us onto the dock that leads to the ship and handing me the ticket stubs back.

"Thank you," I reply, placing my hand gently on the small of Bella's back, guiding her onto the boat.

Though the vessel isn't huge, the décor is reminiscent of the _Titanic_. Everything seems to be carefully planned in an old-world style, and it's done well. The main floor is completely enclosed, but there are several windows on either side of the ship which let in plenty of natural light. Since it's late March, Daylight Savings Time has already started, so it won't be dark for at least two more hours. Half of the room is taken up with round tables, each with eight chairs; the other half is open, and there's a small stage in one corner, where the band will eventually set up for the live music portion of the evening. The open area is designed for dancing, according to Alice.

There are low hanging lights, one over each table, which aren't currently turned on. I suspect that as the sun sets, they'll adjust the artificial lighting to compensate. Each table is dressed with a white linen tablecloth, and each place is set with what appears to be sterling silverware and crystal goblets—no plates.

Several of the chairs are already full; a quick glance at my watch tells me that the cruise starts in five minutes. "Shall we find our seats?" I murmur to Bella, wrapping my arm around her waist and holding her close to me.

She looks up at me, and her eyes are sparkling with what I think is anticipation. "Yes," she replies, and it's apparent that she's reigning in her excitement. She seems to be walking a fine line between wanting to squeal like a little girl and being mature. I smirk at her, pleased to see that our first date is obviously such a hit. _Couldn't have planned it better myself. _

I glance down at the ticket stubs still in my hand, make note of our seat assignments, and slip the stubs into my jacket pocket. We walk side by side across the room to the tabled area, and I scan the placards at each place, finding our seats quickly. There's a handsome elderly couple at the table already, and they both smile warmly at us as I pull out Bella's chair, then help her scoot back in once she's seated.

"Thank you," she says quietly, smiling at me as I sit next to her.

"My pleasure," I reply just as quietly, holding her hand on my thigh underneath the table.

"Welcome aboard the Port Angeles Dinner Cruise, ladies and gentlemen. If you could find your seats please," a loud voice booms over the speaker system. "We'll be departing in three minutes, and your waiters and waitresses will be serving the food shortly thereafter."

There's a flurry of movement all around the cabin at that point as the people standing on the dance floor talking begin to disperse, coming over to the tabled area. When everyone on the ship is seated, I look around and see that it's only about three-quarters full; our table is empty save for the elderly couple and us. At the table furthest from us, I spot Lauren Mallory sitting with a young man I don't recognize. Sighing internally, I hope she won't cause any problems for us later. In high school, Lauren and Tanya were close friends. They stayed in touch during college, despite having attended different schools, and the only reason she wasn't a bridesmaid in the wedding yesterday was because Tanya had three sisters, and she wanted everything exactly symmetrical for the wedding. I had exactly three men I'd wanted standing up there with me—no more, no less. I _know _Lauren was in the congregation yesterday afternoon, though.

"What's wrong?" Bella whispers; apparently she noticed me tense at the sight of Lauren.

"No—" I cut myself off. _Nothing _isn't the truth, and we've promised that we're going to work extra hard not to keep anything from each other—we have enough to work through without lying. "Not nothing. Lauren Mallory is on this cruise. She's one of Tanya's closest friends, and she was at the wedding yesterday."

Bella's eyes widen as she inhales sharply. "Do you think she's going to say anything to us? Should we get off the boat now, just avoid any confrontation altogether?"

"No," I state firmly. "I don't give a damn who sees us, Bella. Even if it does get back to Tanya, I couldn't have been clearer with her that it's over between us. Besides, it's not like she hasn't figured out that you and I are moving forward together. I mean, I kissed you in front of her, remember?" I smirk down at her, and Bella blushes a violent shade of red.

"Yes, I remember that quite clearly." Her eyes drop to her lap, and her blush deepens at the memory.

"Hey." I reach over with my free hand and lift her chin until she's looking at me again. "I'm serious. Don't even think about her, okay? Tonight's all about us. Just you and me."

She smiles and nods.

We're approached by a waiter then, and he places dinner plates in front of each of us. I expected this; Alice told me that food orders were placed in advance, so we were eating her choices. Regardless of the fact that I didn't technically choose it, the food looks amazing; the waiter returns less than a minute later with an offer to fill our wineglasses. Bella and I both agree quickly. I don't know about her, but knowing that Lauren is here makes me feel like I need the wine tonight. I don't want to spoil the evening by being uptight about Tanya's friend, and a bit of alcohol will keep me relaxed.

Our conversation is hushed, as is that of the other couple. They seem to be simply enjoying each other's company just as Bella and I are, so I'm not offended that they don't talk to us, nor do I feel the need to speak up and bother them. To an outsider listening in, the conversation might sound unimportant and inconsequential, but to us, nothing else matters. The time is spent learning things about each other that we would have known had we not had four years stolen from us. I didn't even realize that I had no idea where she was going to college (Florida State) or what she was studying (early childhood education). It strikes me as odd that the only two women I ever dated even remotely seriously are both aspiring teachers. I even wonder for a brief moment just how badly Emmett is going to rib me about being 'hot for teachers.' Her favorite color is green, though she blushes when answering that particular question. I make a mental note to find out why later. Whether intentional or not, serious conversation—things like what will happen at the end of spring break when school starts up again—is avoided.

When the food is gone and the wait staff has cleared the tables, a brass quartet takes the tiny stage. The music is loud and lively, and I have a strong desire to dance with Bella. Other couples have already vacated their seats and made their way to the dance floor, so I turn to Bella. "Dance with me?" I ask.

She looks hesitant for about half a second before a huge grin breaks out over her face, and she places her hand in mine. "I'd love to dance with you."

I lead her to the dance floor and, holding her hand above her head, twirl her around once before pulling her close to me and leading her in a simple swing dance. It's been years since I've used these dance steps, but they come back to me quickly, and by the end of the second song, it's like Bella and I have been dancing together for years. We move together flawlessly, and the smile doesn't leave either of our faces during the next three songs, either. The band finally slows down for the sixth song, and I happily pull Bella close for a more intimate dance.

I lean my forehead against hers, not talking, just holding her flush against me and swaying to the music. There are no words necessary now; we've done so much talking over the past thirty-six hours that I really just want to feel like a _normal _couple for awhile. I know in the back of my mind that we're far from done as far as working through things, but tonight's not the time for reliving the drama again.

"What are you thinking?" I ask about halfway through the song, because I'm honestly curious. I want to know everything I can about her, want to learn what makes her Bella.

"That I hope you'll kiss me again," she says quietly, gazing up into my eyes through her lashes. I can barely hear her over the live music, but I'm sure that's what she's said.

"Well, who am I to deny such a wish?" I smirk at her then lean down slowly, covering her mouth with mine. Her hands, which are wrapped around my neck for dancing, drift upward, tangling in my hair and holding me in place. The grip is unnecessary—there's nowhere else I'd rather be at this moment—but welcome nonetheless. Our lips move together, slowly at first. When Bella's tongue peeks out and sweeps against my bottom lip, I'm done. After my embarrassing slip up earlier tonight, in which I essentially told her that I was anxious to sleep with her—and not just in the literal sense—I'm especially self-conscious of my body's reactions to her. It's completely involuntary, but I still don't want to even remotely imply—verbally or otherwise—that sex is the only thing on my mind. Because this time it's her making the first move to deepen the kiss, I grow hard almost instantly. When I'm the one making the moves, it's easier to keep my body under control. Now, though, I have to take half a step back, which to be perfectly honest, is the last thing I _want _to do. I'm unwilling to risk pushing Bella, though.

I keep my position of not-quite-touching-below-the-waist while our tongues do a kind of intimate dance of their own, independent from the dancing the rest of our bodies are doing.

"Oh, God," she mumbles, pulling away from me, and I swear, it looks like she's squirming. She's panting, resting her head on my chest. All I want is to grind against her, but I refrain—how, I'm not entirely sure.

_Ice water, baseball, Mom, Dad, Em, Alice, Aunt Gertrude… wait, I don't _have_ an Aunt Gertrude… _The fact that the elusive Aunt Gertrude doesn't exist is okay—the mere thought of her is enough to get my erection under control, and I step closer to Bella again.

The next sound I hear is more effective than images of Aunt Gertrude at eliminating all thoughts of sex from my mind and body.

"Well, well, well. You certainly move fast, don't you, Edward?"

I sigh heavily. Rather than address the comment, I simply address the speaker. "Lauren." Though I'm speaking to Lauren, I haven't turned away from Bella.

She tenses in my arms, looking into my eyes with what can only be described as fear. _It's okay, _I mouth.

"So it's true, then?" Lauren asks, ignoring the silent conversation Bella and I have just had.

I pull Bella somehow closer to me, feeling the need to protect her right now. Tearing my eyes away from her, I look over at Lauren, who's standing with the same man I saw her with at the table earlier. They're not dancing, and he looks as uncomfortable as Bella.

"What's true?" I'm not entirely sure _why _I'm engaging her; I must be a masochist.

"That you left Tanya because you knocked up Bella," Lauren sneers. Her date's mouth falls open, and he looks mortified at her accusations.

Bella gasps, and I tighten my grip around her. "No," I state flatly. There's no reason to elaborate. I'm already pissed at having allowed myself to get sucked into this conversation in the first place, and I'm not going to offer a single word beyond what's necessary. The sooner I can shut Lauren down, the happier I'll be. It doesn't hurt that Bella's already heard this rumor—thanks to Mrs. Stanley and the Chief. The fact that we laughed at it already tonight has somehow prepared me for dealing with the accusation now.

"Why else would you—"

I cut her off. "Lauren, it's none of your business. You can tell Tanya whatever you want about this little encounter—and I'm sure you'll tell her plenty—but we're done here." Hugging Bella close to my body, I twirl her away from Lauren and the mystery man.

"Wow, that rumor's really gotten around," Bella says when we're out of earshot of Lauren.

"Never underestimate the power of the town gossip," I reply, grinning down at her to let her know that it's not her I'm mad at.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the same voice from before booms over the loudspeaker again. "The band is going to take a thirty minute break. We invite you to the upper deck during this time to watch the sunset over Port Angeles Harbor."

"Do you want to watch the sunset?" I ask Bella. Honestly, I don't care whether we go up to the top deck or stay here, just as long as we're together.

"Sure," she replies with a smile.

Most of the group has opted to go up, so we follow the crowd. The upper deck is open and much roomier than the dinner and dancing area. While it hadn't felt _crowded _down thereper se, it's even less so here. We make our way to the edge of the ship and stand side by side, leaning against the safety railing and looking out over the water while we hold hands.

With our fingers intertwined, I mindlessly bring Bella's knuckles up to my lips, ghosting a kiss across them. I can somehow feel her smile without needing to look at her.

"Beautiful," she murmurs, looking out over the strait.

I turn to face her, the sunset forgotten. "Yes, you are," I whisper back.

We stand there silently until the sun has fallen behind the horizon, Bella watching the sun, me watching Bella. She shivers, wrapping her arms around herself. Recognizing that she's gotten a chill from the lack of direct sun, I swiftly remove my jacket, step behind her, and drape it over her shoulders, rubbing her upper arms to warm her with the friction. At one point, there's a collective gasp from everyone on the upper deck. The sunset over the water is stunning, I must admit that. I've never been much of a sunset-watching type of guy, but in this moment, I know that I want to watch all of my sunsets with Bella by my side. The realization is somewhat of a shock to me—what does it mean that I don't ever want to be away from Bella? The only thought that comes to mind is _love. _But how is that possible? For all intents and purposes, I've only _really _known Bella since yesterday. I never took the time to get to know her well in high school, and we went to different colleges. I can't possibly be in love with her. Not yet. I can definitely see myself falling in love with her, but settling or not, I was ready to marry someone else _yesterday. _Besides, no one will believe me if I tell them that I'm in love with Bella.

A memory flashes through my mind—a daydream, really. Standing at the front of the church yesterday and imagining myself lying on a warm, sunny beach with Bella. Was my mind trying to tell me even then that I loved her? Between my thoughts just moments ago and the memory of the beach daydream, I realize that, ready or not, I've been in love with Bella since the first time I laid eyes on her when she was a transfer student in the twelfth grade. From the very first time I saw her blush, I was a goner. _That's _why it hurt so badly when I saw her kissing Mike at the party. Ironically, I think that's also why I ignored her the rest of the school year. If I hadn't been in love with Bella, I wouldn't have cared.

"What's wrong?" she asks, reaching up to rub my forehead smooth. "You look worried."

"Do I?" I muse. This new policy of openness and honesty is great, but regardless of that, I can't tell her the mental process I just went through. It's way too soon. I blink and look down at her. "I'm not worried. Quite the opposite, actually." I smile my reassurance at her. It's true, too. I've never been less worried about anything in my life.

**~SN~**

* * *

**A/N: So, what do we think now? As always, we love to hear the reactions of our awesome readers. Just an FYI... we will be pushing the story ahead a bit after their date. We realize that all of this story has taken place within a span of a few days so far, but it will be moving in a new direction in the next few chapters.**

**Thanks so much for reading! Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter. Please note that if you have PMs disabled, you won't be able to receive review replies/teasers.**

**Sarita has entered the TWCS Original Fic contest with her story '**_**The Weight of Roses.**_**' The summary is listed on this profile. Here's a link: h t t p : / / tinyurl . com / 6f9ewhy The prologue and first two chapters are up, and the next chapter will be posted in the next day or so. She also has a fairly new one-shot out called **_**'In the Wings' **_**which was nom'd for Best Romance and Best Bella/Edward in The Single Shot Awards. I'd like to thank everyone for the awesome response to the story.**

**Wendy's new story **_**'Music of the Heart'**_** is out. As her beta, and having read the first several chapters, I say you need to put her on your author alerts. It's an AH, E/B story with James as his usual lovely self.**

****To read a Tanya POV teaser from our outtake **_**'Penitence and Retribution,'**_** which**** we donated for the Fandom4SAA, you can take a look on Sarita or Wendy's blog. The entire outtake will be available after August 1****st**** for those who did not receive the entire compilation by donating.**

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	11. Chapter 10 TakingMatters into MyOwnHands

**A/N: Hello, awesome readers! Shall we join Edward and Bella on their date and see what else transpires?**

**Thanks to our awesome friends and prereaders Caz, Keye and Sandy and the talented Jess (jkane180) for sharing her beta skills with us. **

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**Chapter 10**

**~Taking Matters into My Own Hands~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

As I watch the darkening streaks painting their way across the rapidly darkening sky, I snuggle closer against Edward. The colors are nothing short of beautiful—pinks, purples and golds being slowly overtaken by deep blue velvet. Dipping my head, I surreptitiously sniff Edward's jacket, which he so gentlemanly draped over my shoulders just a few minutes ago. It smells of him even more than his Dartmouth hoodie, and I have this crazy urge to sleep wrapped up in it tonight. Better yet, I'd like to sleep enveloped in Edward's arms again. My cheeks heat up at the thought.

"I love it when you blush," Edward says softly, ghosting his knuckles over my cheek. Glancing up, I see that his body is turned completely toward me—he hasn't been watching the breathtaking sunset at all—he's been watching me all this time. My blush only deepens at the realization.

"Edward, the sunset is _out there_." I point at the sky which has morphed yet again, the purples deepening.

Leaning in close to my ear, he murmurs, "I'm well aware of that, Bella, but the true beauty is standing beside me." He continues running his knuckles along my skin, and the tingling begins in earnest. "So what were you thinking that caused you to blush so prettily?"

Returning my eyes to the sunset, I quip, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Oh, playing that way, are we, Miss Swan? Perhaps I'll have to force it out of you."

"And how might you go about that?"

Edward wiggles his eyebrows—always a comical sight—and makes a zipping motion over his lips.

I narrow my eyes at him, but he doesn't flinch. Turning back to the rapidly waning beauty before us, I lean my hands on the polished wooden railing and really drink it in. Sunsets are one of my all time favorite sights, and I don't want to miss my first—but hopefully not last—one with Edward.

"Watch it, Focker," I murmur, concealing a smile.

"You really love watching the sunset, don't you?" Edward snakes his arm around my shoulders, holding me close.

"Yes. They're one of my favorite things—the colors are so beautiful, and they're different each and every time. God's oil painting..."

"That's an interesting way to think of it. God's oil painting—I like that. Do _you_ paint, Bella?"

"Oh, no!" I laugh, thinking of the times I 'tried' to. "No, they've even banned me from the Bob Ross Fan Club, I'm afraid. I'm about as good with a paint brush as I am at walking across a room without tripping."

"That good, huh?" Edward's eyebrows arch.

"That good. How about you? Any creative arts?"

"Well, I play piano—I'm pretty damn good at it, too, if I do say so myself. I'll play for you sometime."

"I'd love that. I didn't know you played..." My words drift off. I don't know much at all about Edward. I know he's studying business at Dartmouth, that he was on the football team in high school, that he makes my insides turn to cinder... but none of the details you usually know about the one you love. Things such as favorite ice cream, favorite color, their political views, which season they prefer, if they like to get sand between their toes or if it grosses them out... so many things yet to learn. Does Edward play fair during an argument? And another question that makes my face burn ever hotter—how is he in bed?

"...so I really didn't necessarily want my friends in high school to know that." Edward pauses and looks down at me. "Earth to Bella. You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"

"You said you didn't want your friends in high school to know."

"To know what?" A slow smile spreads across Edward's face, and he knows he has me.

"Um... shit. Sorry. I did drift off for a second, but I promise the thoughts were all about you." I smile cheekily.

"So... what were you thinking _about _me that was so important you ignored me standing right in front of you?"

"I was just thinking about how little we really know about each other. I have all these feelings for you, but I don't really _know_ you."

Edward lifts my hand to his lips and places a kiss across my knuckles. "Then get to know me. I want to know everything about you, too. We have almost two weeks here... let's spend them together, make up for some of the time we lost."

A pleasant shiver runs through my hand, up my arm, and into my body. "That sounds perfect. What were you saying just before? What didn't you want your high school friends to know?"

"That I played piano. I was a jock, Bella. Jocks don't usually play classical music." Edward smirks.

"No, I suppose not. I'm excited to hear that you play, though. I happen to _love_ classical music—at least I did until I came to your wedding." I smile wryly.

Before Edward can answer me, the loudspeaker turns on for an announcement.

"Ladies and gentleman... the band is now playing below deck for your listening and dancing pleasure. Please return to your tables. Coffee, tea and dessert will be served shortly. Thank you for joining us this evening, and we hope you're enjoying the cruise."

Edward places his hand on my lower back as we make our way back to our table. The elderly couple is already seated, but they barely take note of us. They are so engrossed in each other that it brings a tear to my eye. I hope that someday I will have what they have—maybe even with Edward.

A waitress comes around to take orders for coffee or tea; I choose tea, and Edward asks for coffee. I've never cared much for coffee because it leaves a disgusting taste in my mouth, but tea has always been a drink that calms and soothes me.

"Edward, I'm going to the ladies' room. I'll be right back."

"I'll be here." Edward offers up his signature crooked smile. "I want to dance with you again."

I walk carefully across the dining room, my eyes constantly scanning for the restrooms. I'm still a klutz after all this time, and I would just die if Edward saw me stumble or fall. The band is playing a slow song, and many couples are out on the dance floor, so I skirt the edges of the crowd. I'm about to ask someone for assistance, but I spot a discreet little sign with the male/female symbols on it and head that way.

There's a small powder room with soft, flowered-fabric-covered, white wicker benches and low lighting that opens into the main bathroom. It's while I'm checking my face in the mirror that the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Looking to the side of my reflection, I see Lauren Mallory standing behind me with her arms crossed, a malevolent gleam in her pale blue eyes. A jolt shoots through me, but I'm proud to say there's no outward sign of my surprise. Memories of high school rush through me, and for a moment, I'm eighteen again. Lauren was on the cheer squad with Tanya back then, and she always went out of her way to make me feel small with her snide remarks and dirty looks. That Bella is long gone, though. _This _Bella isn't about to take anyone's shit.

"Lauren," I say curtly, then go back to what I was doing.

"Well, aren't you a piece of work? They say it's the quiet ones you need to watch out for." Lauren takes a few steps closer, but I'm not going to allow her to intimidate me.

"Is that so? And what do they say about lying, scheming cheerleaders, like your friend Tanya?" I snap back.

"Oh, my God! You're un-fucking-believable, Bella! Even if Edward _didn't_ knock you up, you two are pretty cozy considering he was just standing at the altar with my friend _yesterday_." Lauren's shrill voice is rising, and I'm thankful we're the only ones in the powder room.

I turn to face her, holding my hand palm out. "Wait just a minute, Lauren! You have no idea what Tanya did to Edward and me. She's pure evil."

"_She's_ pure evil? Who stands up in the middle of someone else's wedding like a fucking drama queen holding up a tape recorder? Who knows what was on that tape? Or if it was even real."

Her words make me pause for a second. I know the way I busted up the wedding was dramatic, but I feared that Tanya would twist it to her advantage somehow if I did it any other way. A small part of me also wanted to give her a public dressing down, but nobody could blame me for that after what she did. No, I don't think I have to answer to this floozy.

"Lauren, this really is none of your business." My mouth turns down at the corners, and I clench my fists at my sides.

"I'm making it my business," Lauren seethes, stepping within inches of me.

"We're not in high school anymore. I'll take your ass down without flinching. _Mind your fucking business,_" I say through gritted teeth.

Lauren takes a slight step back, clearly shocked. "Whoa! The little tramp does know adult language. You'll 'take me down?' No, no." She waggles her index finger in the air. "I believe it's _us_ that will take _you _down, bitch. This isn't over."

Lauren reaches out toward me, and I'm not sure what she means to do, but I just react—slapping her across the face.

"Oh!" She glares at me, and I can see the wheels turning in her head. She's unsure of what I'm capable of, afraid to start something if she might not come out the winner. Just like in high school, Lauren only wants to get into a battle if she can claim victory.

"You want a piece of me, Lauren? Let's go." I beckon her toward me in a mocking manner the way I've seen in movies. I'm high on the adrenaline, and I hope she comes at me because I'm feeling rather hostile at the moment. After all, I have four years of pent up emotions that are dying to get out.

"You filthy whore!" she screeches but stands there shaking with rage instead of accepting my invitation.

Just then the door opens, and a female member of the cruise staff pokes a head in. "Excuse me, ladies. Is everything all right in here? I heard yelling." Her eyes are wary.

The interruption brings me back to earth, and I realize that the Police Chief's daughter getting into a brawl the day after she busted up her high school crush's wedding would go over like a lead balloon.

"My apologies, Ma'am. We're done here," I say, pushing past Lauren.

As I leave the room, I hear her mutter, "Watch your fucking back, bitch."

By the time I make it back to our table, on shaking legs, the adrenaline is roaring through my system. Edward smiles up at me innocently then stands to pull out my chair—always the gentleman. Instead of sitting, I grab his hand and tug him out to the dance floor after placing his jacket over my chair.

"Bella, you're shaking," he says as he pulls me in close to his body, and we start swaying to _Lady in Red_.

I lay my head against his chest, breathing deeply of his masculine scent. Something calms me significantly—I don't know if it's his smell, his tender touch, his presence alone, or all of the above. Sighing lightly, I press in closer to Edward, wishing I could just climb inside his skin with him.

"Bella? What's wrong?" He rubs gentle circles on my back with one hand.

"I had a confrontation with Lauren in the powder room," I murmur so low I'm not sure he'll hear me.

He does.

"You what?" Holding me away from him a few inches, he looks me over carefully. "Are you all right? Did she hurt you?" His green eyes spark with anger, and I somehow know that if I tell him Lauren hurt me in some way, he'll try to do something about it. It feels good to have someone in my corner that truly cares and has no hidden agenda. I shudder when Mike flits through my mind—everything he did to 'help' or 'protect' me was actually for selfish purposes. I couldn't bring myself to hate him for it—he did come clean, after all—but a part of me is still resentful. How could I _not_ resent what was done to Edward and me?

"Don't worry, Edward. You should see the other guy..." I joke, placing my hand on his cheek as he looks down at me with confusion in his eyes. "Um... I kind of slapped Lauren."

Edward chuckles. "My little spit-fire. I'm quite sure she earned it, too, based on her earlier display." He pulls me in close again, planting a kiss on top of my head.

"Yeah, she did, but... I was a little out of control. If one of the staff hadn't stuck their head in, I think it would have become more physical. I'm not a violent person, Edward. In fact, I think I've only been in one fight—in the fifth grade. Lauren really pushed my buttons."

"Tell me all about it, Bella." His voice is soft and understanding. He strokes my hair, holding me against him, and I'm surprised to find I feel comfortable sharing what happened. He's just so easy to talk to.

With my cheek pressed into to his shirt, I relay the entire exchange with Lauren in the powder room. Even though I'm a little ashamed of my behavior, I don't try to downplay it or conceal anything. It's easier to do while I'm not looking into his eyes.

As we dance, and I explain what happened, my eyes keep roving around the crowd warily, looking out for Lauren. I'm expecting some kind of backlash from our heated exchange, but I'm just not sure what form it will take or when it will occur. Lauren was never one to go off and lick her wounds; although, I never actually saw anyone stand up to her before, so I was in uncharted territory.

When I finish my story, Edward tips my head up until I meet his gaze. His eyes are warm and understanding. "Bella, it's perfectly natural after what we've been through for there to be some residual anger lingering. We had four years taken from us. Now, I'm not excusing the part that we both played in that by being foolish, but _we're _the victims in this whole thing."

"Yes, we are."

"Lauren is a bitch, plain and simple. She always was, and it appears that she still is. She's Tanya's friend; of course she's going to believe what Tanya says. Don't let it rattle you. Nobody can come between us unless we let them. Remember that, okay?" His eyes blaze into mine.

"Thank you, Edward. You know just what to say and do to make me feel better." I smile at him, finally relaxing my body, which I realize has been as taut as a bow-string.

"That's my girl."

Edward leans in and kisses me slowly. I forget where we are, what happened with Lauren in the powder room, and just enjoy him. I enjoy the firmness of his body, his soft lips moving over mine, his tender touch. The electricity reaches a crescendo, and I feel my nipples tighten as I press my legs together, suppressing a moan. He's always had this effect on me, and I both love and hate it. I want nothing more than to go back to the cottage and... but I can't think like that. Everything in our relationship seems ass backwards—the feelings before we know anything about each other, the big, relationship-ending event before we ever got started, both of us settling for people that didn't really suit us.

Breaking apart, Edward asks if I want to go back to the table for dessert before we dance again. He's out of breath, and his eyes are intense. I think he's feeling the same things I am. We head back to the table silently, each lost in our own thoughts.

Earlier, Charlie questioned me about the fact that I was so young and spent nearly four years of my life with 'Mr. Wrong.' All I could tell him was that when 'Mr. Right' was no longer an option, I couldn't see myself ever burning up inside like that again. Foolish or not, I'm a strong believer in soul mates, even though not all of them end up together. After being so altered by someone... it just seemed impossible to recreate. A part of me didn't want to because my heart would still beat hard in my chest whenever I saw someone that resembled Edward, and I would be left quivering and wanting once I realized it wasn't him—it would never be him. How do you fight against a tidal wave like that?

I can remember when I was a little girl, my grandmother had a pair of love birds, Penny and Lance. We found Lance at the bottom of the cage one morning, and Penny was standing guard over his body. She tried to bite us each time we opened the cage, and when the body was finally removed, she made the most awful squawking noises. For days, all Penny did was caw for her lost mate. She began picking her feathers out, and a few weeks later, she was just a shell of the bird she once was, defeated and listless. I remember my grandma calling me one night a few weeks later to tell me that Penny had gone to be with her love. My tears were happy ones because I didn't believe one should have to live without the other. Even as a young girl, I believed in soul mates—maybe Penny and Lance were my inspiration; I just don't know.

Shaking off these somber thoughts, I enjoy my tea and share a piece of chocolate cake with Edward. We each have our own fork, but he keeps feeding me pieces, sometimes missing accidentally-on-purpose and smearing chocolate on my lip. When he does, he gets this playful gleam in his eyes as he leans in to kiss or lick the icing away. The elderly woman catches my eye and titters with her hand over her mouth.

"Remember when you used to play with me like that, Harry?" she asks her husband.

"What do you mean, 'used to?' I can still lick chocolate with the best of 'em!" Harry answers with a twinkle in his eye.

For some reason, when I look at them, I think of Penny and Lance.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I laugh out loud at Harry's declaration. I hadn't realized that the couple had been watching us, and if he'd said just about anything else, I would probably have been embarrassed at having been caught in my little game. However, the idea that they recognize something in us that is even one percent similar to what they have makes my night. The spark I feel with Bella isn't imaginary; Harry and his wife see it in us, and they're complete strangers. It makes me think that the only reason the people close to us question it is because they know the whole story. Being out in public and having it pointed out this way—however unintentional it was—gives me confidence that we're doing something right here.

The loudspeaker announcement of the final dance of the night comes just as I feed Bella the last bite of the chocolate cake. "Would you do me the honor of joining me for the last dance of the night, Bella?" I ask.

She smiles and blushes slightly. "Yes, of course."

I half expect Lauren to find us and make more trouble before the night is over, but she doesn't. I peer over Bella's head, scanning the crowd for any sign of coming trouble, and there's none. I know it would be naïve to expect that we're done with all trouble—that people will just accept us together—but I hope we can at least make it through the rest of our date with no additional confrontations.

The band wraps up the song with a fanfare, and the announcer comes on the loudspeaker one last time. "Ladies and Gentlemen, on behalf of Port Angeles Dinner Cruises, I thank you for joining us this evening. The boat has now docked, so you are free to leave at any time. All of us here hope you've had a wonderful evening that you won't soon forget. Good night."

"Well, I won't soon forget it, that's for sure," Bella says quietly, giggling. "And most of it was wonderful, but there were definitely a few moments I could have lived without."

"I couldn't agree more," I reply, leading her back to our table for a final once-over to grab my jacket and make sure we haven't forgotten anything.

When we're back on solid ground, my legs are a little wobbly. I haven't spent much time on boats, so it catches me a little off guard, and I have to walk slowly to be sure I don't fall down. Bella seems to realize what I'm doing and laughs. "It takes some getting used to," she says.

"What does?" I ask defensively, still not picking up my pace at all.

"Walking on solid ground after being on a boat. You eventually get used to it, though. Honestly, I'm surprised at how steady I am. I haven't been out on my dad's boat in years, and with the trouble I have normally…" She trails off, blushing again. It really is a lovely sight, her cheeks and neck turning pink.

It only takes a few more steps for me to feel somewhat normal again, and because I'm not ready to go back to Forks yet, I suggest a walk along the boardwalk. "It's not too late, and since it's a weekend, I bet the shops are open late."

"Yeah, okay," she agrees easily. She wraps her right arm around my left and snuggles in closer to me while we walk. "So, you spent dinner asking me loads of questions. Do I get a turn?"

"A turn?" I question.

"Yeah. To find out more about you. All I really know is that you go to Dartmouth and… well, about yesterday." Her voice is small by the end, as if she realized too late what she'd nearly said and changed her tactic at the last second.

I look down at her, and she's biting her lower lip. "Hey." I stop walking and turn to face her, placing my thumb on her chin and releasing her lip from its prison. "Don't worry about it. And I'd love to answer questions for you. Ask away." I smile at her, and she seems to relax. We start walking again, and the interrogation begins.

"Okay. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Mint chocolate chip," I answer without hesitating, "but it has to be the green kind. White ice cream that tastes like mint weirds me out."

"Me, too," she says, smiling broadly at me.

"Really? Most people I've met don't seem to care. I just can't do the white stuff, though."

"I totally get what you mean. What about your favorite color?"

"Brown."

"Brown?"

"Yeah. I know it's an unusual choice, but it's always had kind of a calming effect on me. I just like it." I shrug.

"Okay." She doesn't look like she particularly likes that answer, but it's the truth. Favorite color never seemed like something I'd have to defend, so I never thought about before now. I almost find myself questioning my decision now, though. "How about your favorite season?"

"Fall. I like that it's not too hot, not too cold, and it means that the holidays are just around the corner."

"You're kidding." She's looking at me with a sparkle in her eye.

"No, why?"

"I love fall, too, for exactly the same reasons. That was one thing I missed in Florida—it's always hot down there, so the holidays never really feel like the holidays."

"Didn't you grow up in the south?" I ask, laughing. Bella was a transfer student our senior year, and she went to college the September after graduation, same as I did.

"Well, yeah," she replies sheepishly. "But still. You can't tell me that it doesn't feel more like Christmas when it's cold outside."

"You don't have to convince me; I grew up in Forks where it snows—at least for a day or two—almost every year. I just think it's kind of funny coming from you, that's all."

"I can see how you would think that. What about the beach?" She moves on quickly, and I get the impression that she's planned all of these questions out in advance.

"What about it?"

"Well, do you like walking on the beach in bare feet?"

"No."

"Really?" She sounds surprised. "Why not?"

"Because the only beach I've spent any substantial amount of time on is the one out at La Push, and even in the middle of summer, it's fucking _cold_. No one ever walks that beach in bare feet. Plus, it's more rocky than sandy. Not comfortable to walk on, even with shoes."

She laughs again. "I suppose that makes sense. I'll have to take you to one of the beaches in Florida sometime. They're really great for long walks. Well, they are in the early evening, anyway," she amends. "In the afternoon, the sand will burn your feet."

"Planning a vacation together already, are we?" I tease her. That telltale blush creeps up her neck, over her chest, and up to her face again.

"No, of course not… I mean… Shit, I'm sorry. That was out of line, wasn't it?"

"Bella, I'm just teasing you. I'd love to visit Florida with you someday."

We've been so engrossed in our discussion that neither of us noticed that we'd passed every single shop on the boardwalk without stopping at a single one. Now, we're at the end of the line. "I guess we missed any chance at shopping, didn't we?" she asks.

"Yeah, I suppose so," I reply, turning and leading her back down the planks toward the cruise ship and parking lot where we left the car. "That's okay, though. I enjoyed the chat more than shopping."

"Me, too."

We hold each other on the walk back to Emmett's Vanquish. I unlock and open the door for Bella, closing it softly yet firmly once she's seated. The drive back to Forks is spent in comfortable silence, both of us thinking over the events of the evening. When we pass the sign welcoming us to our hometown, Bella speaks up. "I'm not ready to go back to Charlie's yet. I mean, unless you want to drop me off right now. But I'd really like to spend some more time with you." I can't quite read her expression, but I think it's some strange mixture of fear and confidence.

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do than spend time with you." I know I sound kind of cheesy, but it's true; there's nowhere on the planet I'd rather be than with Bella. "We already did dinner, dessert, and dancing, though. Where would you like to go?"

She looks thoughtful for a moment. "Back to the cottage?" she suggests, biting her lower lip.

"The cottage sounds perfect." I drive us to the outskirts of town, slowing way down when we get to the dirt road that will take us to the clearing in the woods to avoid doing any damage to the undercarriage of the car—I know Emmett wasn't kidding when he practically threatened my life in the event of any damage, even things that a sane person would consider 'normal wear and tear.' Rosalie will be doing a thorough inspection when I get back, just looking for an excuse to tear me a new ass.

The cottage brings back memories of the way we found Bella's rental this morning, and I feel as though my veins were just flooded with ice water. If anything like that were to happen to this car… I shudder. "What's wrong?" Bella's voice is honestly concerned.

"I was just remembering what happened to your car when we were out here last night. Rosalie will kill me—literally, she'll physically murder me—if anything even half as bad as that happens to this car."

"Rosalie?" Bella cocks her head in confusion, not able to place the name.

"My sister-in-law. Emmett met her in college, and they got married last year. Anyway, this car is her baby, and I kind of went over her head to get to borrow it in the first place."

"Well," Bella says, placing one hand on my arm, "I don't want you to get murdered at the hands of your sister-in-law. We don't have to stay if you're worried about it."

This is the second time tonight she's mentioned leaving a place simply because there's the possibility of something bad happening. I don't quite understand how she can be so confident when dealing with Lauren in the women's bathroom on the cruise, yet so skittish now, when it's just the two of us. "Two things, Bella. First, no one knows we're here tonight. Last night, Tanya knew we were here after her little escapade to get the tickets for the Fiji trip. Which brings me to my second point. She's in Fiji. We don't have to worry about her tonight."

"You really think she went on the trip? Without you?"

I snort derisively. "I'm the first to admit that perhaps I didn't know Tanya as well as I thought I did, but I'm not totally clueless as to her personality. She definitely went on the trip. Now, I haven't the foggiest idea whether she went alone or took someone with her, but there's no way she let those tickets go to waste."

I can see the tension melt away from Bella's muscles at my confidence that we won't be interrupted tonight.

I honestly have no idea what we'll do inside the cottage until I open the door and am greeted with the large screen plasma TV my dad insisted on installing last year. There's no cable out here, since it's the middle of the woods, but there's a new Blu-Ray player and a shelf full of movies hidden in the cupboard next to the fireplace. I smirk to myself as inspiration hits. "How does a movie sound?"

"A movie would be great," Bella agrees.

"Cool. I know just the one. Go ahead and have a seat. I'll get it loaded and be right there."

"Okay." She smiles nervously up at me, but then apparently decides to trust me to select the film. I sit next to her just as _When You're a Fool in Love _begins to play, announcing the opening credits of _Meet the Parents. _Bella giggles. "How appropriate."

"I thought so." I drape one arm over her shoulders, holding her close.

I struggle to focus on the movie. Just like during the sunset on the cruise, I find Bella much more engaging than the movie on the screen. I memorize each of her expressions from her gasp of horror during the scene where Deb's nose is broken and the pool floods with blood, to her giggly laugh when Pam throws Greg's cigarettes on the roof. She even swoons when he proposes at the end of the movie. Though I know she's seen the film before—otherwise she wouldn't have been able to make the reference when we were talking on the phone earlier—each of the major funny parts causes her to burst out laughing as if it's the first time she's seeing it. I understand the feeling; I react the same way every time I watch this movie. This time is the only exception—ever—and it's only because of my company.

Two hours later, I feel as if I've hardly taken a breath. Ben Stiller has just said, '_Can you deal with that?' _and I exhale as the closing credits scroll across the black screen.

"What a great movie," Bella says happily. "It never gets old, no matter how many times I watch it."

"Yeah, I know. It's always funny," I concur, though I didn't really see much of it this time. I'm speaking from experience, though.

We sit quietly for a moment, snuggling on the couch, when Bella sighs. "I suppose it's time to get back to civilization now, eh?"

"I'm not sure I'd consider Forks 'civilization,'" I tease.

She laughs. "I just meant—"

"I know." I cut her off. "I'd rather stay here with you, too, but I don't think that's a good idea." My physical desires are screaming at me, cursing me for not making a move on Bella. My rational side knows that staying here tonight is not an option, though.

She looks up at me, turning under my arm. "Really? You want to stay with me again?"

"Yeah," I admit, somewhat sheepishly. 'It girl' or not, in love with her since high school or not, I'm still a little stunned at how quickly—and naturally—things are moving forward between the two of us. "But I promised my brother I'd have his car back tonight." It's a lame excuse, but a valid one nonetheless.

"Ah, I see. Hence the murdering sister-in-law."

"Right."

"Well, let's get going then. I know it's only been a couple of days, but I've kind of gotten used to having you around. I don't want you to get murdered." She smiles sweetly at me, leaving me to wonder how I got so lucky as to get a second chance with her.

Fifteen minutes later, we're pulling up in front of the chief's house; the porch light is off, but the living room light is visible through a window on the first floor. We walk slowly up the path, holding hands, neither of us wanting the date to come to an end yet. When we reach the house, she stands on the stoop, and I remain on the path below; this puts us eye to eye. She drapes her arms over my shoulders.

"Thank you for coming out with me tonight," I tell her.

"Thank you for taking me," she replies sincerely.

Her fingers drift upward, tangling into my hair, and she slowly moves her face toward mine. Her kiss is tender and soft, but full of passion at the same time. My arms wrap themselves around her waist, holding her close. Adrenaline surges through my veins, causing my heart to race, which leads me to move my lips at an even more urgent pace against Bella's. My body is reacting, but I don't care this time. I'm kissing the woman I _truly _love, and even if I'm not ready to let her in on my revelation verbally, I'm not ashamed to let her feel what she does to me. Our tongues come out to greet each other at the same time, and I'm lost in the taste, the feel, that is so exclusively _Bella. _It's like nothing I've ever experienced before—except when I'm with her.

I feel like I'm running out of breath, but at the same time, I'm unwilling to retract my tongue from Bella's mouth. I never want this feeling to end. While we stand there kissing as though it's the last thing either of us will ever get to do, time stands still.

Until the porch light flicks on, blinding me. I pull away abruptly, squinting and blinking. "What the hell?" I mutter.

The door opens behind Bella, and Chief Swan is standing there. "Ahem." He clears his throat loudly and looks pointedly down at us.

Bella closes her eyes in defeat. "I'm sorry," she murmurs to me then turns around to face her dad. "Hey, Dad. I'll be right in, okay?"

He frowns but doesn't say anything else, just turns on his heel and stalks back into the house, leaving the light on and the door open.

"You should get in there before we have another… incident," I tell her, adjusting my slacks in what I hope is an inconspicuous manner.

"Yeah, you're probably right. When am I going to see you again?"

I honestly haven't thought about that at all, and the question surprises me a bit. I've been going on the assumption that we'll spend as much time as possible together over the next two weeks while Tanya's gone and before school resumes. "Tomorrow, I hope," I tell her.

The smile that graces her features lights up the porch even more than the blinding light above our heads. "That sounds perfect."

"Good. I'll call you in the morning then." I kiss her one more time, not allowing the kiss to deepen this time—the last thing I want is for the Chief to feel the need to come check on us again. Despite the fact that we're not teenagers anymore, Bella _is _staying in his house, and I don't want to push the envelope too much. "Good night, Bella."

"Good night, Edward."

I turn away from her reluctantly and make my way back down the path toward the car. My body doesn't seem to remember—or maybe it just doesn't care—that Bella isn't here any more. I'm still hard when I get back to my parents' house. Fortunately, it's late enough that they all seem to have gone to bed already, save for Emmett and Rosalie. I return the car key, accept Rose's threat of bodily harm if there's 'even one scratch on my car,' and head up to the second floor for a shower before bed. The fact that I took one right before our date crosses my mind, but I don't care. I'm not interested in _washing _this time. I've got some tension to relieve before I'll be able to sleep, and the shower is a much less embarrassing place to do so than in my bedroom—the room that shares a wall with my parents' bedroom.

In the privacy of the shower, I begin stroking myself lightly. Soft brown eyes, looking at me with adoration, appear in my mind's eye, causing me to tighten my grip and increase the force of my strokes. I imagine it's Bella's hand running up and down my shaft, her soft lips trailing kisses over my chest. Part of me feels guilty for imagining her this way, but the testosterone filled part of me revels in it.

With thoughts of Bella floating around behind my eyelids, I come harder than I have in years, my knees buckling at the sensation. "Oh, God," I grunt as my orgasm claims my body. I stand in the hot spray until my breathing returns to normal then turn the water off and dry quickly, draping my towel around my hips. I walk across the hall and fall onto my bed, not bothering with pajamas and covering with just the thin sheet. I fall asleep with visions of our date keeping me company.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: Cat fight! Can't wait to hear our reader's opinions on **_**that**_** little scene. Lauren's a piece of work, isn't she? And how about Edward's self love? I know what I'll be dreaming of tonight...**

**Thanks**** so much for reading! Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter. Please note that if you have PMs disabled, you won't be able to receive review replies/teasers.**

**Sarita has entered the TWCS Original Fic contest with her story '**_**The Weight of Roses.**_**' The summary is listed on this profile. Here's a link: h t t p : / / tinyurl . com / 6f9ewhy All seven chapters for the contest are now up. She also has a one-shot out called **_**'In the Wings' **_**which won Best Romance and Best Bella/Edward in The Single Shot Awards. Thanks **_**so**_** much to everyone who voted!**

**Check out Wendy's new story **_**'Music of the Heart.'**_ ** As her beta, and having read several chapters in advance, I say you need to put her on your author alerts. It's an AH, E/B story with James as his usual lovely self.**

****Our outtake from this story, **_**'Penitence and Retribution,'**_ **which has POVs from Mike and Tanya,** **will be available after August 1****st****. Watch for details...**

**Follow us on Twitter: (at)SaritaDreaming**

** (at)wmr1601  
**


	12. Outtake: Penitence and Retrubution

**A/N: Hello everyone! In preparation for the end of Spring Break, we'd like to give you more pieces of the past along with some foreshadowing and a taste of what Edward and Bella have to look forward to. Wendy is the voice of Mike Newton, and Sarita is the voice of Tanya Denali.**

**Thanks as ever to our awesome friends and prereaders, Keye, Sandy and Caz, and our beta Jess (jkane180).**

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**A man with regret, a woman with no conscience. Add them together and you get a behind the scenes look at Penitence and Retribution.**** A Speak Now outtake including POVs from Mike and Tanya donated for the Fandom 4 Sexual Assault Awareness.**

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**~Penitence and Retribution: A Speak Now Outtake~**

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**~*Mike*~**

_Why the hell did I go into journalism? _

Most days I love my job, but today, not so much. I read over the assignment sheet again, hoping it says something different than it did thirty seconds ago. Of course it doesn't. No matter how many times I will the paper to change, it won't. I close my eyes, and the words on the paper mock me even through shut lids: my name, followed by the story I'm supposed to write.

_Newton: Girl drugged by boyfriend; in critical condition after allergic reaction to compound. Suspect in custody at Duval County Jail._

I find it ironic that this is the story that I've been assigned; it's been four years—almost to the day—that I was guilty of the same crime. I got off luckier than this poor stiff, though. I was never caught. Doesn't make the crime any less of a crime, though, and it's something I've had to live with for all of my adult life. Most days, I don't remember that night anymore. Although the memory has been creeping up more and more recently. It's hard for it not to as I watch my girlfriend pull further and further away from me. I don't have to ask her why; I know. She doesn't want to be with me, but she's not sure that he'll take her back. That fact hurts more than the guilt of _why _she's mine in the first place.

"Damn it!" I mutter, pushing my chair away from my desk and standing up.

"Everything okay, Mike?" Garrett, my officemate, asks.

"Yeah," I lie. "I just need some fresh air. I'll be back in half an hour or so."

"Sure, okay," he says, looking a little worried about me.

I ignore the look and stride purposefully out of the office without a second thought.

The Florida sun beats down on my back as I walk. My steps are long, determined, which is ironic considering I have no idea where I'm going. _There's a lot of irony in my life today. _Before I've made a conscious decision to go anywhere, I'm at the apartment I share with Bella. I have a sudden urge to listen to a tape I made a long time ago—four years ago, to be exact. _The curse of being so obsessed with writing… I have records of everything, good, bad, and ugly._

I pull the tape recorder out of the bedside table where I've been keeping it hidden from Bella all this time. In retrospect, it probably isn't a very good hiding spot; she could have found it at any point. I know she hasn't, though. If she had, I surely wouldn't still be sharing my bed with her.

I push _play _and, sliding down the wall until I'm seated on the floor, let the memories wash over me along with the voices from the tape recorder.

"_Hey, Mike." I looked around. Surely Tanya Denali wasn't actually talking to me. She _never _talked to me. _

"_Er, hi, Tanya," I stammered. "What's up?"_

_She smiled wickedly at me. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to sit with me at lunch today? I have… a proposition I want to ask you about."_

_My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "A-a proposition?" I stuttered._

"_Yeah. I don't want to talk about it here, though. Meet me in the cafeteria at lunch? I'll save you a spot."_

_My heart rate picked up instantly. I didn't really even understand why; I wasn't interested in Tanya _that _way. She was head cheerleader, but the blonde-haired, blue-eyed look wasn't really my thing. I preferred the quiet, contemplative, brunette Bella Swan. She hardly ever gave me a second glance, though. Bella was obsessed with Edward Cullen—the object of Tanya's affections. _Jeez, even just thinking about the tangled foursome we are gives me a headache.

_I didn't even realize that I hadn't answered her until she stepped in closer to me. I could feel her warm breath washing over my ear as she whispered quietly to me, "I know you're interested in Bella Swan, not me. And I have a plan to get you who you want and get me who I want in one fell swoop. Interested?"_

_I gulped and nodded, feeling a bit like an imbecile—why couldn't I even answer her verbally? I had no idea what Tanya had in mind, but I was willing to do just about anything to show Bella that I could be a good match for her, too. Not that I had anything against Edward—not at all. In fact, I considered him a friend. He was probably the nicest guy I knew, and that was the only consolation I had in knowing that Bella preferred him to me: she'd be in good hands if she ended up with Edward. _

"_Great. I'll be in the back corner table in the cafeteria. Meet me there, and I'll tell you what I'm thinking. Make sure you're alone." With that, she turned on her heel and stalked off in the opposite direction._

_Needless to say, my morning classes passed by excruciatingly slowly. My mind kept trying to figure out what Tanya could possibly have to say to me that would 'get me who I wanted.' When I entered the cafeteria at noon, clutching my brown paper lunch sack, I spied Tanya exactly where she said she'd be. A thought hit me then; this could be interesting… I should record it, just in case. I shoved my hand in my pocket, wrapping my fingers around the slim recorder I always kept on me, and I ran my fingers over the buttons, feeling the raised shapes there until I found the one I wanted: the circle that was the 'record' button. I pressed it down and made my way over to her, ignoring everyone else in the room. "Hi," I said nervously as I sat down._

"_Hi. So, let's skip right to the chase. I don't care for you, and I know you don't like me, either, so there's no reason to drag this out. I've gotten my hands on some GHB, and if you can slip some to Bella, I guarantee you she'll be yours for the taking. Easy as that."_

"_Holy shit, Tanya! Drugs? Are you serious?"_

_She didn't say anything, just nodded._

_My breathing picked up; whatever I'd thought she was going to say, it sure as hell wasn't that. _

"_Look, this is going to happen whether you help me or not. I _will _have Edward. You're having a party this weekend, right?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_I'll make sure Bella's at the party; we'll talk again then." She stood abruptly and walked across the cafeteria, joining the rest of the cheerleading squad._

The tape stops suddenly there and picks up again three days later at the fateful party.

_The more time I spent thinking about Tanya's 'proposition,' the less sure I became. And honestly, that was saying something because it wasn't like I was ever really fully on board with the plan, anyway. At school, Tanya was her normal bitchy self, never even gave me the time of day, but that all changed on Friday night._

_The party was in full swing: music, dancing, drinking, the works. I was milling around, doing the standard 'host' things, when Tanya sauntered up in front of me, blocking my path. It was as if she knew that I'd been avoiding her all night—which I had. I'd made my peace with Bella being with Edward instead. It had to be better than drugging her._

"_You still on board, Mike?" _

_I shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of what to say. "Er, well…" I trailed off._

"_Listen. It's easy. Here's what we do. You just have to drop this little caplet into her drink." She showed me a small pill, holding it out between her thumb and forefinger. "You'll want to do that pretty much as soon as Edward leaves her, though, because it's gonna take a few minutes to kick in. And make sure she doesn't see you doing it." She tried to hand me the pill, but I didn't take it. _

"_I'm not sure about this, Tanya."_

"_Oh, stop it. It's just one little drug; it won't do any permanent damage. Besides, I thought you wanted to be with Bella." She rolled her eyes, as if what she was saying made the whole thing less horrific. _

"_I do, but I'm not sure this is the way to get what I want."_

"_Well, she's out there behind your parents' shed right now making out with Edward Cullen. If you're not serious about this, then I guess I'll just have to find __someone who is. I will, too, make no mistake about that. I _will _have Edward for myself; that little tramp Bella isn't going to stand in my way." The venom in her voice was almost enough to make me flinch. I didn't say anything, just stared at her in shock. "Decide fast, though, Mike. I've already started the argument between Jacob and Emmett. It won't be long before they're yelling for Edward to come help them decide who's right. In my estimation, you've got about thirty seconds left before the two oafs can't manage a civilized conversation anymore, and then it'll only take Emmett about a nanosecond to call for Edward. Idiot." _

_"Fine, fine, I'm in," I relented. "Give me the pill."_

_As if on cue, Emmett started shouting from my living room at that moment. It only took about two minutes before I saw Edward running up the steps. I hurried to find Bella, the tiny pill hidden in my fist… my fist hidden in my pocket._

To this day, I'm amazed at how well the drug worked. It made Bella all relaxed and… frisky, and I was there to be a part of it. While I loved the feeling of her lips on mine, the way her leg felt hitched up over my hip, I knew that it wasn't real.

The assault of the memories causes my chest to clench, and I know that I have to either come clean with Bella or do something to get rid of the memories once and for all. I know what I _should _do, but I'm not sure that's what I _want _to do. I also recognize that this fact makes me a horrible person. The question now is _can I live with that? _In the short term, I think I can. Long term, I have no idea.

I sigh and stand from my position on the floor, stopping the recording and making a move to hide it back in the night stand. That suddenly strikes me as a bad idea; I've been lucky thus far that she hasn't found it, but I'm not willing to press that luck any further. Looking around the room, I eye the his-and-hers closets that were part of the appeal of this particular apartment. I find an old shoebox in the back of mine and tuck the recorder inside, then replace the box on the back of the top shelf, covering it with a folded quilt—just for added security.

Sure that the recorder is hidden well, I hurry back to the office; I've taken more time than I told Garrett I would, so it's important that I get back quickly. By the time I arrive, I'm drenched in sweat. _Maybe it would've been better to be a little later and show up presentable. Oh, well, too late now. _

"Dude, what took you so long? I thought you were only going to be half an hour?"

"Yeah, sorry," I mutter. No further explanation is needed; Garrett is just my office mate, not my boss.

"Well, anyway, your phone has been ringing off the hook pretty much ever since you left. I didn't answer it since it's your personal cell phone." He nods toward my desk.

In my haste, I didn't even realize that I'd forgotten it. "Thanks," I tell him, picking up the phone and scrolling through the missed calls. They're all from my friend Tyler—we grew up together in Forks, and he recently married another of our classmates, Jessica. I haven't heard from Tyler in a couple of months, so I'm intrigued at what he might have to say to me now. I hit the 'redial' button and listen to the monotonous ringing sound.

"Mike! How the hell are you, man?" he greets me.

"I'm all right, Tyler. How's married life?"

"Great. That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about, actually."

_What?_

"I don't understand. You called me in the middle of a workday to talk about married life?"

"Not exactly. I was just wondering if you and Bella were coming back for Edward and Tanya's wedding. Jess and I will be there, and it would be awesome to see you again."

My throat is instantly dry. "Edward and… Tanya… are getting married?"

"Yeah, next month." He rattles on, giving me all the details, then concludes with, "Didn't you get an invite?"

I consider lying to him, but the gig would be up when we didn't show, so I opt for the truth instead.

"Er, no, actually."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure you will soon. There's no way Edward wouldn't invite you to his wedding. It's probably just taking longer to get to Florida than it did to get here."

"Yeah, probably. Listen, Tyler, I've gotta run. I'll call you in a few days, okay?"

"Sure, man. Talk to you later. And see you next month!"

"Right," I mumble, pushing the 'end' button on my phone.

I'm not sure whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. It totally sucks that Bella and I didn't get an invitation. I don't buy for a second that it's just taking longer to get to us; I know for a fact that Tanya excluded us—and there's no doubt that it was _Tanya _and not Edward that made that particular decision. I lean back in my office chair and drum my fingers on the desk. There are pros and cons to this. The biggest pro, of course, is that maybe if she knows that Edward is off the market permanently, Bella will relax and be happy with me again, like she used to be. The biggest con is obvious to me, too—Bella loves Edward. Tanya promised me that Bella would eventually forget about Edward, but it's becoming more and more apparent that she's not going to.

I try to forget about Edward and Tanya, the tape, everything that happened four years ago, and start working instead on my assignment. I focus on _this _guy and what _he _did. The similarities are uncanny, but I force myself to stay removed from the situation. I succeed somewhat, and when I leave the office three hours later, I've got my interviews scheduled with the victim's family and the suspect. My boss will be pleased.

I stop for a beer on my way home, just to further ease my nerves, and am feeling pretty damn good when I get back to the apartment. I'm _not _the same as the guy I'm writing my article about—that's what I've convinced myself of by the time I get home anyway.

I'm just wiggling my key into the doorknob when something catches my attention—I'm not even exactly sure what it is, just some sort of intuition or something. I turn my head and spot a figure sitting on the porch swing.

"Bella? Is that you, hon?"

"Yeah," she says, sighing heavily.

I sit next to her on the swing, draping my arm over her shoulders, trying to act nonchalant. "What's up? Why're you sitting out here in the dark?"

"Mike… I, uh – we need to talk."

I know instantly what she's going to say, though I hope in my heart of hearts that it's not true. The very next words out of her mouth confirm my thoughts, though. The conversation deteriorates quickly, and I even go so far as to accuse her of cheating on me, even though I know she never would. She quickly shuts down that line of thinking. "It's no one around here," she assures me.

"Someone back in Forks," I state flatly. It's not a question.

"Yes. It doesn't matter because he doesn't love me, but unless I get over him, I just can't be with anyone else. Please understand, Mike; you don't deserve that."

The timing is uncanny; no sooner have I found out the details of Edward and Tanya's wedding than Bella comes to me, telling me that she's in love with Edward. When I simply suspected that she did, I could keep my secret; knowing that it's the case, I can't. "Bella, I have something to tell you, too. Four years ago, I did something horrible—unforgivable. I knew it was wrong, but I went along with it anyway." Though the words are probably the most difficult I've ever had to utter in my life, I feel a strange weight lifting from my chest as they come out. Getting the truth out after four years is a good thing. I just hope dumping my sorry ass is the worst thing she does. I'd deserve jail time for what I did to her, though, and I'll take it if it comes to that. "I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I am, Bella. But maybe I can help you. Come with me." I drag her into the apartment, to our bedroom, and reach up to the box I've hidden the recorder in. When I find it, I withdraw it from the closet and place the cool, black plastic in Bella's palm.

"Mike, what's this?" she asks, looking confused.

I lean in and kiss her on the cheek. "Proof," I whisper.

"Proof? Of what? I don't understand."

"Come here, Bella," I say, pulling her over to our bed. We sit next to each other, and I gently take the recorder back. "Before I play this for you, I just want you to know again that I'll never be able to apologize enough for what you're about to hear. I hope that the information I have for you after you hear the tape is enough to make you forgive me one day."

I push the play button and listen to the recording for the second time today.

As we listen, Bella's eyes fill with tears. Before the tape is over, they're flowing down her face, and I feel like an even bigger douche than I did before. "I told you it was horrible. And while I hope that you'll forgive me one day, I won't blame you if you don't."

She takes a few deep breaths and looks me directly in the eye. "You said you had more information than just that?"

"Yes." I'm resolute. I know that I'm losing Bella tonight whether I tell her this or not, so I may as well do everything in my power to at least give her a chance at happiness. "Edward and Tanya are getting married in Forks next month."

"What?" Her eyes widen, and she claps a hand over her mouth. "How… how do you know?"

"You remember Tyler Crowley?"

She nods.

"He called me today, wondering if we were going to go."

"But we haven't gotten an invitation."

"I know. I think you need to go anyway. I wouldn't recommend crashing their wedding or anything, but I think you need to talk to Edward before he marries Tanya. He's just as oblivious to what happened as you were until three minutes ago, Bella, and if I were in his place, I'd want to know."

"You would?"

"Yeah."

She pauses for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip in thought. Finally, she looks into my eyes again and says, "Thank you, Mike. For telling me the truth." She leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

**~SN~**

Four weeks later, I drive Bella to the airport—we've continued living together, but I've been sleeping on the couch. I don't know when I'll see her again, but I know that I don't deserve to. We've remained friends—how, I don't know; it's only out of the goodness of Bella's heart that I'm not in jail—and I volunteered to drive her here today.

"Thank you again, Mike. I really did love you, you know. I just wasn't _in love _with you. You understand the difference?"

"Yeah, Bella, I do."

I help her get her bags out of the trunk, leave her in the very capable hands of an airport employee, and watch as the one true love of my life leaves me to profess her love to someone else.

**~*SN*~**

**~*Tanya*~**

The Wedding March begins, and as I sweep up the aisle, all of the friends and family in the pews are just a blur. Moving toward the altar, my mind sifts through many thoughts: _Is my hair perfect? Has the top of my strapless gown dipped too low, providing a view of my undergarments? Is my makeup flawless? Can everyone see me? Are they jealous? Is this really happening...?_

The grip I have on my father's hand tightens. This is it. _My day,_ where everyone will see me marry my prize. Edward Cullen is one of the finest male specimens around, and he's all mine. Today, I claim Edward, and we can start our life.

My father places my hand in Edward's, and I just wish Pastor Weber would dispense with the bullshit and say, 'I now pronounce you man and wife; you may kiss the bride.' Then we can get the annoying reception over with. My mind is already on a warm beach in Fiji, sipping Mai Tais. I have the cutest tiny little red bikini all picked out for our first day.

I've already slept with Edward more times than I can count; I know the feel of his hands on my hips as he pounds into me, the intense green of his eyes... the way he throws his head back with his eyes scrunched closed when he comes. I love the way people watch us out in public—two beautiful people together.

When I look into his eyes, they seem slightly off. Maybe he's nervous? I'm not. I've spent the last four years in a state of semi-anxiety—hoping that loser Mike Newton wouldn't cave and tell Bella the truth. I heard those two are still together, so maybe they found happiness in each other. I couldn't give a shit, as long as they stay out of my way. _Smirk._

I tighten my hand on Edward's, and he smiles down at me. His eyes aren't quite meeting mine, but he's a bit of a tenderfoot in general. He's not usually one to face life head-on the way I do. That's okay; it makes it easier to influence him to do what I want.

I answer Reverend Weber's questions by rote. We practiced this already, and my mind drifts to that beach in Fiji. I wonder what I should wear for our first dinner...

Edward's soft _'I do' _snaps me out of my trance. This is it! Thank God it's almost over. We made it, and I know Edward isn't the type of guy to cheat or leave, so he's mine for as long as I want him.

"If anyone knows a reason why this couple should not be wed, speak now... or forever hold your peace." Reverend Weber glances between Edward and me, apparently amused by this. Who says that at weddings anymore anyway? There's even a vague tittering from the congregation.

Reverend Weber takes a deep breath, about to pronounce us husband and wife, when there's a rustling sound at the back of the sanctuary. A voice from the past breaks through the silence, ringing through the church.

"I know of a reason. Several reasons, actually."

And there stands _Bella fucking Swan_ at the end of the center aisle. What the fuck? Can't the bitch just get her own man? I roll my eyes internally, pretty sure her lame attempt will end in failure. This is just another annoyance to be dealt with.

But it's not, and Bella doesn't leave beaten down.

My mind can barely wrap around the rapidly turning events as they play out.

I watch _my fiancé_ staring at Bella like a thirsty man lost in the desert.

My future mother-in-law insists we listen to what Bella has to say. _Interfering bitch._

Edward closes the door in our faces, and he's in there alone with that little whore!

Finding the key, I enter the room, and Edward puts me out the door like a stray animal. Surely all the yelling he's doing will blow over? He's pissed off now, but he'll come crawling back to my bed... right?

Fear wracks my body as Edward muscles me out the door and presses me into the wall. His breath is warm and moist over my ear, and I think of all the naughty things he's whispered to me in the past.

"Tanya, the statute of limitations has not expired on what you did to us four years ago. Unless you want to spend what was supposed to be your wedding night in jail, you should stay the fuck out of my way."

My heart drops to the floor like a stone, and I watch Edward's retreating back, knowing that this time we may have reached the point of no return.

Cutting my losses, I flea the church. There's nowhere I want to go in this pathetic, podunk town. I nab my sister Kate's car and drive to Port Angeles, booking myself the Presidential Suite at the George Washington Inn using Edward's credit card. Fuck him and his prissy mother.

My phone keeps buzzing, and I shut it off without checking to see who it is. What does it matter?

I call down to the concierge and ask them to send a salesclerk from the boutique to my room. My fucking suitcase with all my clothes is at Esme's horrid little hobbit cottage, so Edward can buy me some new clothes with his Amex Black Card. I also order up several different entrees from room service to sample.

The salesclerk arrives with a rolling rack full of size four clothing for me to choose from. I know I only need a few things to hold me over, but I figure 'what the hell?' and I proceed to spend several thousand dollars—also on Edward's Amex Black.

I write a large tip on the slip for Bonnie, the salesclerk.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cullen. Enjoy your new things!" she chirps on her way out.

That's probably the only time anyone will ever call me 'Mrs. Cullen,' and it's a bitter pill to swallow. The truth of what's happened finally hits me, and I run to the bathroom and throw up all that I just ate. It's while I'm collapsed against the cold porcelain of the toilet that anger and rage really starts to fill me to the brim.

Tanya Denali does not cry, or puke, or slink away with her tail between her legs. Tanya Denali does not lose fiancés to the likes of Bella 'plain-Jane' Swan. _Nobody_ fucks over Tanya Denali and gets away with it. If I can't have Edward, I'll make damn fucking sure Bella doesn't either.

Calling down to room service, I order two bottles of _Dom Pérignon_. Despite the fact that I just spent a half an hour worshiping the porcelain God—_disgusting_—I need some liquid assistance.

The waiter enters the room, opening the first bottle with a flourish. "Shall I pour for you?"

"Yes, please."

"Just one glass?"

"Just one. I'm celebrating me."

"Very good, Miss." His eyes say he'd like to celebrate me, too. I think about it for half a beat, but I have other things on my mind at the moment.

As he's leaving, he turns and hands me a glossy black card with gold writing. "My card... should you ever have need of some... special assistance."

I take it between two fingers and look it over quickly.

_Brian Bowman ~ Specialty Services_

_Discretion guaranteed_

_360-555-8523_

"Thank you, Brian. I'll keep you in mind if I need... any assistance," I answer with a coy smile. I just might need to call on him sometime.

And here I sit, knocking back flute after flute of the finest bubbly, alone, without Edward. I really do love Edward, and he's fucking mine. There's no way I'm giving up. The more of the dry, fizzy champagne that goes down, the surer I am. My head begins to fog up, and I rest the delicate flute on the side table, flinging myself back on the king-size bed. Satin sheets—so cool and smooth—caress my skin. I should be with Edward right now. Granted, we were going to stay in Esme's hideous little cottage, but Edward would be buried inside me right about now. Those green eyes... ungh.

Undressing slowly, I slide my naked body along the sheets, loving how it feels. I pretend Edward is with me, that it's his hand between my legs instead of my own. Moving faster and faster, circling my clit and then plunging two fingers inside me... his green eyes looking at me with lust, begging me to come for him... and I do.

_'Come for me, T.' _His soft voice echoes in my mind.

"Edward!" I twist in the sheets, my orgasm ripping through me.

And then I open my eyes.

I'm alone.

With two bottles of Dom—one almost empty.

No husband.

Nobody that loves me.

And it's all because of _her._

I throw the champagne flute at the wall, reveling in the sound of it shattering, as memories from the past overtake me...

_**Four Years Ago**_

"_Hey, T! Who are you going to the dance with?" Lauren asked me while we were donning our cheer uniforms before a big game._

"_Well, I kind of have my eye on someone..." I answered evasively and looked away as I closed my locker._

_There was a loud clang as Lauren closed hers, too, and I heard the deafening silence as well as felt her eyes boring into the side of my face. "Well? Spill!"_

_I looked at Lauren askance. "Okay, but you have to promise you won't say anything!"_

"_I swear on Tyler's big cock!" Lauren laughed._

"_Good enough. Okay... it's Edward Cullen."_

"_Edward... whoa. You've really set the bar high, girl. He doesn't date anybody. Sure, he's friends with all of us, and he plays around... but when's the last time you saw _Eddie_ with a _steady_?" Lauren snorted, thinking she was so funny, and I had the urge to slap her._

"_Well, Edward has never been a victim of the Denali charm. He'll cave. Just you watch."_

"_Bet you ten you can't get him to the dance..."_

"_I'll go you one better. I'll bet you twenty that we're going _steady_ by the dance." I smirked at her._

"_You're on, beyotch!"_

_We grabbed our pom poms and headed out to the field. I put on an extra special show just for Edward, making sure I brought a bottle of water to Jason, who was sitting next to Edward and had a huge crush on me. I wiggled my ass in front of Jason, and he grabbed me by the hips, pulling me back, and pressed himself against me suggestively._

_The whistle blew, and Jason let go. As I sauntered away, I heard him say to Edward, "I'd sure like to tap _that_."_

_The next day at school, I decided to begin my campaign to win Edward Cullen's heart. He always smiled and flirted with me, but he did that with all the girls. I wanted to be different._

_I saw Edward up the hallway flanked by Jessica Stanley and Jane Russo. I watched him carefully, but he didn't seem to have an overt interest in either of them. But then he hesitated a moment by a locker that I knew wasn't his. There was a girl holding the door open who had mousy brown hair, pale skin, and wore jeans and a flannel shirt—ick! Fashion fucking nightmare._

_As Edward passed her, he leaned over and touched her shoulder, saying something in her ear. She froze in place, nearly dropping one of her books, and her face flamed._

_Interesting._

_Later, I saw the same girl in the Caf, sitting alone reading a book. I poked Lauren. "Who's the Plain Jane over yonder?"_

"_Where?" Lauren craned her neck. "Who, her? That's Bella Swan—the Police Chief's daughter. She's only been here a month or two. Why?"_

"_No reason. I was just curious because I didn't recognize her."_

"_She's a nobody." Lauren waved her hand and turned back to the lively conversation going on at our table._

_A nobody indeed, but a nobody that seemed to interest Edward Cullen._

_I started to watch them closely whenever I saw them in the halls. Edward definitely went out of his way to talk to her or put his hands on her in some way, and Bella always blushed scarlet. It was obvious that she had it bad for Edward—fuck, who didn't?—but fear started to take up residence in my heart. Fear that Edward might want her, too._

_One day, when I was working on a bulletin board display for the cheer squad, I saw Edward by himself. Bella Swan walked by with Mike Newton, and I swear Edward glared at him. As Mike and Bella continued down the hall, laughing at some joke Mike made, Edward's eyes filled with longing. I sure as fuck knew he wasn't longing for Mike Newton's pale white ass._

_When Mike announced he was having one of his epic parties while his parents were away, a plan started to form in my mind. Mike was just the patsy I could enlist to help me with it. For some reason, he was drooling over Bella Swan, too—what was it with guys and plain, boring girls?—and I would use that as leverage. _Yes_, I thought, _it could be delightful_..._

Shaking my spinning head, I grumble to myself. Those two were like magnets being drawn together back then, and I tried my damnedest to interrupt it. It worked, too. I'm not sure what the fuck went wrong, but I had to fix this.

Heading over to that awful little cottage, I find Edward there with fucking Bella. I go into a fugue state—so incredibly hurt and pissed off that I barely remember what is said—but the wind up is that Edward kicks me to the curb _again_. He really believes he belongs with Bella, and she's apparently all in, too.

Edward practically begs me to go to Fiji, wanting me out of his hair. Tanya Denali has pride—I'm not going to stand there and beg him, but I'm reasonably sure Edward will come to his senses—at least, he would if Bella wasn't there simpering in his arms.

After I leave, I return to my room... devastated. Downing another half a bottle of Dom, I realize that I have to know if Edward is fucking that little tart. I also know that I won't leave there without them both getting a taste of what I can do when pushed.

Grabbing the black and gold business card, I call Brian Bowman. Who knew I'd be using his number so soon?

"So, Brian... I need a discreet favor," I coo into the phone.

Thirty minutes later, Brian shows up at my door with a brown paper bag holding a can of scarlet red spray paint.

When I ask how much I owe him, he says, "The first favor is free, my lovely." He picks up my hand and kisses it.

"Well, thank you. I never forget what anyone does for me." I bat my eyelashes at him.

An hour later, after picking through fucking brambles and shit, I'm standing in front of Esme's ugly cottage. I hate this fucking Seven Dwarves reject. It's the middle of the night, I'm wearing a black cat suit and black sneakers—the clerk from the boutique looked at me oddly when I chose this, since it was so different than all my other purchases, but she didn't comment—and I have a backpack with the paint over one shoulder.

The lights are all out inside the cottage, but I know the car parked in front doesn't belong to any of the Cullens. Besides, there's a little sticker that says 'Budget Rentals' on the back bumper.

My chest is tight as I slowly walk around the side of the cottage. I know where the bedroom is, and I peek into the window. At first, I can't see shit because the moon is so fucking bright out here, but I wait until my eyes adjust. Fate is on my side, and a cloud obscures the moon. Leaning over, I carefully look in the window. I thought nothing could shock me or surprise me anymore.

I was wrong.

Edward is snuggled up against the back of Bella with his nose buried in her hair. I may not be able to see his face clearly, but I know him well enough to recognize how relaxed and... content he is.

Anger rages through me like a tornado. I stuff my hand in my mouth to keep from crying out.

_How could he?_

This was supposed to be our wedding night, and he was fucking someone else?

Making my way back to the front of the cottage, I can see the need for the spray paint after all.

Shaking the can, I hear the steel ball rattling around, mixing the scarlet paint. I chose that color specifically... like the Scarlet Letter, let Bella Swan advertise what she is to all. Removing the cap, I spray on the white paint:

_TRAMP!_

_HOMEWRECKER!_

_WHORE!_

I want to do more, but I hear a twig snap nearby. What if Edward heard me out here and was coming to investigate? My car is about a half a mile away, hidden on the side of the 101. Enough damage is done, so I turn away and run like hell.

When I get back to my room, I call Brian Bowman again.

"Another favor so soon, Miss?" he asks.

"No. Actually, I was thinking of doing something special for you..."

It proves to be an interesting night.

While he fucks me hard on the satin sheets in the Presidential Suite, I begin plotting my revenge.

The next day, I board the plane to Fiji—First fucking Class—and the stewardess questions if I have a traveling companion.

"No, this is a trip that's all about me." I smirk.

After the plane takes off, thoughts of the ways I can get Edward back drift through my mind. In particular, there's a DVD that might be of assistance. I fall asleep with a smile, dreaming of the horror on someone else's face when she discovers what can't be refuted in full blown Technicolor.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: As always, thank you for reading! The next chapter of the story will be posted early next week. We'd love to hear your opinions and theories... you know Tanya isn't going down quietly, right? And is there any sympathy out there for Mike, or do you want him to go down with Tanya?  
**

**Follow us on Twitter at SaritaDreaming and at wmr1601**


	13. Chapter 11 The Fairer Things in Life

**A/N: We're floored by the responses to our Mike/Tanya outtake. Thanks so much for all the awesome reviews. It seems that nearly everyone wants to see Tanya burned at the stake—no surprises there—but readers seem to be split on Mike's fate. About half of you think he should go down hard, just like Tanya, and the other half think he deserves a break for 'fessing up. We can't tell you which side we fall on... that would just ruin the coming surprises! There were lots of suppositions about the DVD that Tanya has... while some of you were close, nobody guessed the whole thing, which is just as we want it. **_**Smirk.**_

**Thanks and big love to our friends and prereaders, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for their awesome feedback and input, and to our beta Jess (jkane180) for wielding her Sparkly Red Pen.**

**~SN~**

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**Chapter 11**

**~The Fairer Things in Life~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

With the promise of a call from Edward tomorrow, I lean in the doorway, watching his retreating form for a moment. Before he reaches the end of the walkway, I duck into the house, shutting the front door, but I watch through the glass side panel as he gets into the Vanquish and drives off.

"Fancy ass car." My father's voice just behind my left shoulder causes me to startle, and I bump my head on the glass.

"Ouch!" I turn quickly, glaring at my father. "What the hell was that, Dad?"

"What? He's obviously trying to score points with that sleek, _fast_ car," Charlie snorts.

"No, no, no. I don't mean the _car_. I'm talking about your little trick with the porch light!"

Charlie has the good sense to look slightly repentant as he turns away and heads back into the living room, where he plops down into his wingback with a sigh. Following him, I sit on the couch and look at him expectantly—there's no way I'm letting him off the hook on this one.

"What? I'm your father!" he defends with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Dad, I'm not sixteen years old!"

"Yeah, I know. Look, I'm sorry, Bells. Edward seems... like a nice enough young man, and I think he really cares about you." Charlie hesitates, his hand gesturing in the air as he tries to find the right words. "It's just that this is all kind of hard for a father, you know?"

"Are you ashamed of me for breaking up the wedding?" I ask, horrified at the thought.

"No! Bella, no!" He shakes his head vehemently. "Actually, I'm proud you had the balls—I mean nerve—to stand up for yourself that way." Charlie grins, shaking his head slightly.

"Dad, I want you to stop giving Edward such a hard time. We have enough challenges in our path, and you don't need to be another."

"Okay, I promise to lighten up on Edward, _but_ don't expect me to stop being your dad and worrying about you. If he breaks your heart, I'll –"

"You'll hold me and comfort me, right?" I interrupt him with a warning look.

"Yeah, yeah. You can't blame a man for wanting to protect his kid," he mutters, looking down at his feet.

"And I love you for it, Dad, but I'm an adult now."

Charlie waves a hand at me with a grunt. "Are we done here? 'Cause we need to have a talk about something, so get your butt in the kitchen."

_What now?_

I follow Charlie into the kitchen. He flips the overhead light on as he enters and sits in his seat, folding his arms on the table. There's a manila folder beside him.

I'm brought back to high school again, and I have to remind myself that we're on more equal footing now. I'm _not _a little girl, even if I feel like one.

"So, Bells, a couple of issues. For one, I expect you to file a police report for that rental car. Now I know you don't want to press charges against that little bi– _Tanya_ at this time, but you might change your mind in the future. At least if we have pictures and a report, you'll be able to put a claim through the insurance, and if you ever decide to press charges, you'll be able to."

"That makes sense. I'll head down to the station tomorrow, okay?"

"Good. About Mike..."

"No. I don't want to press charges against Mike."

"You understand that if you ever go after Tanya, Mike will inevitably end up prosecuted as well, right?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm hoping the _threat_ of prosecution will keep Tanya in line." Despite what he did to Edward and me, the thought of sending Mike to jail is decidedly unappealing.

Charlie looks up at the ceiling with a guffaw. "Well, based on what she did to the rental car, I wouldn't count on it, Bella." Growing more serious, Charlie opens the folder to reveal a sheaf of papers. "When you arrived, you mentioned that you didn't intend to return to Florida. I'm wondering what your plans are?"

"Oh." My eyes are suddenly everywhere but on my father. My stomach drops as I think about Spring Break coming to an end and Edward heading back to Dartmouth... where Tanya will be. We've danced around the subject but have avoided discussing it so far.

A large, warm hand covers mine, and tears start welling in my eyes. "Bells, you're not dropping out of college, are you?" he asks gently.

"No! No, Dad. I just can't... go back to Florida. I know Mom thought it was great that I'd be there, but she's always traveling with Phil. In the past year, I've seen _you_ more often than I've seen her. How's that for irony?"

"Well, Renee is... Renee." Charlie sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "No Florida... but what _do_ you intend to do?"

"I, uh, thought I could go to Washington State," I mumble.

"What about Edward? He's heading back to Dartmouth, so how will you two manage?"

My heart freezes in my chest. This is something I've been avoiding thinking about, and here my father is, digging a finger in the wound. Nausea roils in my stomach when I think about being across the country from Edward, knowing fucking Tanya Denali will be there tempting him at every turn. Even though I know Edward is done with her, it doesn't stop the jealousy that floods through me.

"I don't know, Dad!" I wail, dropping my forehead to rest against our joined hands.

"Long distance relationships rarely work, sweetie."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious!" I snap, knowing I'm being unfair to him. I'm angry, though—angry that four years ago Edward and I were fucked over, and now it could potentially happen again because of the physical distance between us. "Sorry, Dad."

"It's all right, honey. Listen, I didn't bring this up to hurt you. As much as I'd love to have you at Washington State, I have a better idea."

"Like what?" I ask, lifting my head to look at Charlie.

He slides a piece of creamy stationary across the table. Curiously, I turn it to face me, pulling it closer. The feel of the thick, linen paper under my fingers tells me it's something official. When I look down at it, I'm confused. "What? Why do you have this out?"

Charlie stares back at me as if I'm daft. "You didn't forget about this, did you?" He taps the letter with his index finger.

"Well, no..."

"Bella, you should go."

"But you can't..."

"Hey! Leave the logistics to me. You've got some inheritance money from your gran, and I'm sure Phil is still willing to contribute."

"I hadn't considered this..." I drift off. "Before I make a decision of this magnitude, there's someone else I need to talk to."

"I agree."

"I'm heading up to bed." I get up from the chair, letter in hand, and hesitate. "Thanks, Dad. Your support means the world to me."

"That's what I'm here for, Bells. I love you, sweetie."

"I love you, too. Goodnight."

Heading up to my room, I undress, slipping between the sheets where I proceed to stare up at the ceiling. Little moons and stars glow faintly, left over from my childhood. Charlie put them up the summer I was six, and I've always been fascinated by them. Now, I use them in an attempt to distract myself from thinking about heavy things. So many heavy things.

My cell buzzes on the nightstand, and I snatch it up, hoping it's a text from Edward. It is.

**Hey, beautiful. Just wanted to let you know I had a great time tonight, and I'm thinking about you. Sweet dreams. ~E**

Edward's message brings a smile to my face. He's so thoughtful, and my heart melts when I think about him spooning next to me at the cottage. I wish he was here now. There's a decision I need to make about my future, and I need to talk to him about it first. My body shivers involuntarily, and I attempt to push it aside for now.

Using the blue glow from my phone, I key in my reply:

**Hey there, handsome. I had a wonderful time with you, and I can hardly wait to see you again. All my dreams will be of you tonight. Sleep well. ~B**

Placing the phone back on my nightstand, I turn on my stomach—my 'comfort' position—and drift off to sleep.

**~SN~**

The next few days are a flurry of activity. Edward takes me to _Windows on Seattle,_ where we eat a high priced meal for the honor of looking out over the lights of the city. It's incredibly romantic, but I'm learning that Edward Cullen is a total sap for romance, which I love. Mike was into romance as well, but it never affected me the way it does with Edward.

We made a day of it: shopping, browsing the art galleries, sitting on a bench people watching. When night started to fall, and the stars twinkled in the clear night sky, Edward led me over to the restaurant. When I told him I doubted we'd get in, he smirked at me and suggested I 'watch the master at work.'

At the hostess stand was a beautiful, young redhead with cold blue eyes. She was very no-nonsense and appeared to run a tight ship. When her eyes lit on Edward, however, a smile spread across her face.

"Edward Cullen... as I live and breathe. How _are_ you?"

"Hello, Victoria. I'm well, and you?" Edward took her offered hand.

"I'm terrific! Oh, and this must be the lucky lady... Tanya, is it?" Victoria turned her gaze on me, and I nearly toppled off my high heels as she grabbed my hand.

"Um, Bella. Nice to meet you."

Edward quickly interjected. "Long story..." He rolled his eyes. "Let's just say I'm with the right woman now. I've been dreaming of Bella since I was seventeen." He lifted my hand to place a kiss on it, and I blushed furiously.

"Ah, true love. So you'll be wanting a romantic table along the windows, I suppose?" She leaned in to whisper, and Edward nodded.

Several more people had entered the foyer, and Victoria made a show of stepping back behind the podium and raising her voice. "Well, let me check my reservations... hmm... Oh, here you are! Cullen, for two."

Once we were led to our table, I asked Edward how he knew Victoria.

"Well, I came across Victoria broken down on the side of the road one night about a year ago. While I changed her tire, we did a lot of chatting—because I'm really shitty with tires." He laughed, shaking his head. "Victoria had just started working here and didn't want to lose her job. Thankfully, she was able to get to work on time despite my lack of speed, and she promised I would always have a standing reservation."

"And she remembered you?"

"Funny about that. A few weeks later, we ran into each other at a frat party. It turns out her cousin, Julia, goes to Dartmouth, and we have some classes together."

"So, how come she didn't know what Tanya looks like?"

"Tanya's sisters happened to come to visit that weekend, and they were having some girl time."

"You sure do get around, don't you? Who else of influence do you know?"

Edward wiggled his eyebrows. "You'll just have to wait and find out, won't you?"

The evening was beautiful. We decided to spend the night because we were both a little tipsy, but Edward insisted on separate hotel rooms. When I protested, he placed a finger against my lips.

"Shh... trust me. We've both had a bit to drink, and I think it's for the best, Bella."

I fell asleep in the big lonely bed, wanting Edward but knowing he was right.

The next day, we drove back to Forks after having breakfast at a greasy spoon, and Charlie actually behaved himself with Edward—not even a snide remark about us spending the night away. Progress.

Somehow, Charlie managed to have someone from the rental agency pick up the defaced car from the Cullens' home and drop off a new rental. Reluctantly, I gave the Volvo back to Edward; I knew it was silly, but I felt closer to him using his car.

The following day, I went down to the police station to file a report as Charlie requested. On my way out, I saw a flier tacked to a tree that brought a smile to my face, and I pulled out my cell to text Edward.

**Prepare for some fun, handsome. I'll pick you up at seven. Dress casual and bring that crooked smile with you. ~B**

Less than a minute later, I received a reply.

**I'm intrigued... Can't wait to find out what you have up your sleeve. Who are you calling crooked? ~E**

From there, I headed back to Charlie's and closed myself up in my room. I opened the closet door, pulled out a small cardboard box from the back corner, and proceeded to spread out the contents on my bed, which is where I've spent the past few hours.

A knock on my bedroom door snaps me out of my reverie, bringing me back to the present.

"Hey, Bells? I'm about to go pick up Sue. Do you and Edward have plans?"

I look up, startled, as my door opens, and Charlie's eyes widen as he takes me in. I'm lying on my stomach in the middle of my bed with my old journals surrounding me. My face heats up, although I'm not sure why—it's not as if I'm reading someone else's journal.

"Sue, huh? Sue that cleans your house?" I cock an eyebrow at him.

"Um, yeah, about that... Sue and I are kind of..." Charlie rubs at the back of his neck, turning red. Now I know where I get it from.

"Dating, Dad?" I supply.

"Yup." He looks down at the floor.

"That's wonderful!"

Charlie's eyes meet mine. "It is? I mean, it is."

"You deserve some happiness, Dad. You've been alone for so many years..."

"Well, I have a good time with Sue. I'm taking her to dinner and a movie in Port Angeles."

"Go, Dad! Well, have fun, and say hello to Sue for me. I'll be out with Edward tonight."

"You two kids have fun."

"You two kids have fun, too." I wiggle my eyebrows, and Charlie's blush deepens. It's good to see someone else doing the blushing for once.

With another glance at the mess on my bed, Charlie turns to leave.

I've been doing a lot of thinking the past few days. My discussion with Charlie the other night reminded me that there are serious life decisions to be made, and I felt the need to get in touch with all of me—including who I was before—to aid in the process. Some might think me silly for dusting off old journals and revisiting the past, but it's all part of how I became who I am.

I've always kept journals of one sort or another ever since I was eight years old. Many of them have pasted in pictures of my celebrity crushes or doodles of my 'married name' using the 'crush of the month.' For a full three months when I was ten, I doodled _Mrs. Isabella Sanford _in all my notebooks_._ I had a huge crush on Anthony Sanford, and he was the first boy that broke my heart. He didn't even know I was crushing on him, but when I saw him holding hands with some other girl, I was devastated.

I smile, smoothing down the page with all the loopy signatures. Closing that journal, I grab the one I've been avoiding—the purple fabric journal I wrote in during high school. Even though I've been enjoying my walk down memory lane, what I've really been doing is ing up the courage to open the pages that contain my greatest pain.

I find that I still can't bear to read it all, so I decide to crack the journal open to a random page. It turns out to be a very pain-filled page.

_I just don't understand how things could go so wrong. Friday night, Edward Cullen had his lips mashed up against mine, and on Monday he had his tongue down Tanya Denali's throat. It really hurts to think maybe Edward was just trying to score, that I meant nothing to him. He seemed so sincere, though. Why would he bother? Oh... maybe I just didn't measure up. Maybe he wanted to try something different, and he was unimpressed by my lack of experience with making out._

_Whatever the reason, it's really hard for me to watch Edward walk the halls hand-in-hand with Tanya. She's such a fake, surfacy skank. I'm not one to talk bad about other people, but hey—you're my journal and your job is to absorb my teen angst, right? I mean, Tanya was happy when she knew I saw Edward kissing her. Somehow she knew about Mike's party—or at least she knew something happened between Edward and me. Since Edward was the only other one there, I guess he must have told her. How fucking embarrassing is that? They probably had a good laugh about silly, inexperienced Bella thinking a popular guy from the football team could be interested in her._

_It just hurts. It really, really hurts._

I stop reading there. Across the years, it _still_ hurts even though I know the truth now. It's amazing how pain and emotion can be pressed between the pages of a book, preserved like a flower. The poison is still potent; the thorns still sting. I suspect if I open this journal fifty years from now, I will still get a taste of the pain my past self was in when this was written.

There's a smear on the page where a teardrop fell as I was writing. I rub my index finger over the blotch where the blue ink is blurred and faded, and the paper feels thinner and weaker there. I'm reminded of the fragility of life and love. It's so easy for it all to be taken away—and in this moment, I make a decision about my future. I know what I have to do; I just need to keep it to myself for a little while, let it swirl around on my palate like a fine wine. I don't want anyone to influence my decision, not even Edward.

Closing the journal, I glance at the clock and realize I'm due to pick up Edward in an hour. Reverently, I gather up all my precious memories—yes, even the painful ones are precious—and pack them into the box, which I return to my closet. Then I head into the bathroom to take a shower.

Forty minutes later, I stand in front of the full length mirror on my closet door, assessing myself. It will probably be a cool night, so I'm wearing a pair of jeans that fit every curve like a glove and a long sleeved V-neck in a pretty shade of green that reminds me of Edward's eyes. The top has fitted sleeves that bell out slightly at the wrists and a plunging neckline that shows off my cleavage to advantage. I'm glad Charlie is gone already because he might give me a hard time about the shirt—not that it would make any difference, but I'd rather not deal with the aggravation. My hair is still slightly damp, falling in loose waves around my shoulders. He's never said so, but I get the impression that Edward likes my hair long and flowing, which is why I spent a few extra minutes coaxing my locks into a glossy fall. I'm never one to wear a lot of makeup, but I applied a little bit more than usual for tonight.

It's while I'm putting on my shoes that I hear the sound of a familiar Volvo pull up outside—I recognize the quiet purr of the engine. It's only twenty to seven, so I'm not late. Shuffling over to the window with one shoe on, I look down to see Edward unfold his tall frame from his car. As he does, he happens to look up and spot me in the window and raises a hand. I struggle with the window, which always sticks, and there's a loud squeal as I push it open.

"Edward, what are you doing here?" I call down.

"I know you wanted to take me out, but the guy in me still thinks I should pick you up. Don't worry; you can just tell me where to go."

All I can do is smile down at him. He's so cute and sweet.

"You're not mad, are you, Bella?" He squints up at me, his hand shielding his eyes from the waning sun's golden rays, which play off his bronze hair, creating a fiery halo.

"No, of course not! I'll be down in a sec, okay?"

"I'll be here." Edward offers up one of his panty-drenching, crooked smiles.

Once I finish putting my shoes on, I head down to the front door. As I open it, I'm yanked from my feet and crash into something hard. "Oh!"

Brown eyes meet jade ones up close.

"I missed you, Bella," Edward says thickly, crushing his lips against mine. His arms surround me as he kisses me deeply, soft but masculine moans vibrating in his throat.

There's a definite thrumming between my legs as we stand there in the doorway of my father's house groping each other. My hands slide around his waist, my fingers gripping the soft cotton of his shirt tightly. His hands rub up and down my back, one dipping low enough to brush my ass. When he pulls back for a moment, I exclaim breathlessly, "Edward! You know we're giving all of Charlie's neighbors a free show, right?"

"Sorry," he mumbles.

And then we're moving. He pushes me back, slams the door shut with his foot and presses me to the wall in the foyer. "Better?" he murmurs as his lips come back down over mine.

I completely forget why I was worried about the neighbors as I melt under his firm body trapping mine. An electric current moves through my entire being, making every nerve ending sing.

Edward's forearms rest on the wall to either side of my head, and he looks down into my eyes—his are smoldering hot. The ability to speak leaves me as I gaze up at him in wonder. It doesn't matter that words have escaped me because he takes the opportunity to kiss me again. The green of his eyes is burned into my retinas as my eyes flutter closed, and I give myself over to sensations.

His pelvis rocks forward, pinning me to the wall, his arousal evident. His lips move against mine hungrily, passionately, as my heart slams in my chest.

He lifts me, using the wall to hold me up as my legs wrap around his hips. My hands reach up to slip into his soft hair, my fingers exploring the nape of his neck. Edward groans—he must like being touched this way, so I rake my fingernails lightly in his hair. I'm rewarded with another groan, and he grinds into me... just where I want him. _Oh._

I'm like putty in his hands, and when he parts his lips to deepen the kiss, I open to him readily, our tongues mingling together. He takes control of the kiss, but it's never too rough, and I'm enthralled with this side of him. I find a more aggressive Edward that knows what he wants extremely sexy.

When his lips leave mine, I want to cry out, but when he starts placing a burning trail of open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck and over my collarbone, his tongue peeking out to taste my skin, I forget what I was protesting. He keeps having that effect over me—clouding my mind and turning it to mush.

My fingers tighten in his hair as his lips move back up my neck to rest against my ear. "I want you so much, Bella." His words come out in a hushed whisper that sends shivers down my spine.

"Mm-mm, Edward... I want you, too," I murmur before I realize the impact of our words.

They seem to be like a bucket of cold water for both of us.

Edward steps back, letting my feet down, and my arms drop to my sides. If it wasn't for the wall holding me up, I'd surely be in a heap on the floor right now. His eyes are a dark, forest green, his face flushed. The tips of his ears are red, and I wonder what the hell _I_ look like right now.

My mouth gapes open as I stare at Edward, and he stares right back, just as silent.

Somebody needs to say something; this silent staring is unbearable.

My eyes drop from his, but I turn an even deeper shade of red when I get a look at the bulge pressing against his jeans. "Oh, dear God," I whisper under my breath.

Edward clasps his hands in front of himself, covering his hard-on. I'm not sure if this is purposeful, but it breaks the staring contest I'm having with his crotch.

"Oh... Edward, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." I gesture to his hands and feel my face heat to a new level.

And suddenly, we're laughing. Full out guffaws and unladylike snorts that go on so long I'm clutching at my stomach in pain. As I double over, helpless to stop myself, Edward grabs my upper arms and holds me up. I'm not sure if he does this purely to assist me, or if he's using me to hold himself up, too.

The laughter seems to die down about the same time, thank God, and we slowly straighten up and regard each other.

"Bella, I'm sorry. This was really my fault because I came over here and attacked you like an animal. I just... really missed you." His eyes are so sincere and worried looking.

"It's okay, Edward," I reassure him. "I'm pretty sure I was a willing participant in all the groping and smooching."

"You sure were!" He laughs, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, you!" I smack him on the arm. And then something dawns on me. "And how did you know Charlie wasn't home?"

"His car's not here. Honestly, I didn't know for sure, but I figured when you yelled down from the window, Charlie would have been right at the door to meet me and remind me that he's got his eye on me." Edward makes a V with his fingers, playing a little Jack parody of his own.

More laughter bubbles up my throat. "Listen, Edward, if we ever want to get to our date, we really should stop this." I gesture between us.

"You're absolutely right." Edward takes my hand in his and kisses it. "Shall we, Miss Swan?"

"We shall." I curtsy.

Still holding hands, he leads me to the Volvo, where I proceed to direct him where to go for our date. As we get closer, Edward starts giving me strange looks.

"What?"

"Where are you taking me? If I was a girl, I'd worry you were taking me somewhere remote to kill me and bury the body."

"So dramatic. I assure you, we won't be alone out here."

"Really? There's nothing out here!"

"Yes, there is, and you're going to love it."

"Hmph."

"Just around the next curve, and you should be able to see what I'm talking about."

And just as I said, as we round the next bend in the road, a beautiful sight is before us.

The sky is a darkening shade of blue, the sun already below the horizon. Bright lights come into view: spotlights, blinking white lights, and the neon lights of a Ferris wheel so huge it cuts the sky in two. There are other various colored lights from the many rides and stands on the midway. The ultimate eye candy.

Quickly, I roll my window down to let in the sights and sounds of the fair. There are screams from those on thrill rides, music from a live band, the catcalls of the carneys running the various stands as they try to sucker people into playing their crooked games, the cacophony of live animals in the petting zoo, the splash of the dunk tank as the target takes a hit from a lucky customer, couples holding hands, mothers and fathers with their children... and it all melds together to create an awesome feeling deep inside me. The anticipation I always feel—that I've felt ever since I was a kid—when I come to the fair, flutters through me, and my heart picks up speed.

I look over at Edward to see what he thinks.

"Wow..." Edward's eyes are fixated on the sights. "You're taking me to the fair, Bella?" he asks excitedly.

Just the kind of reaction I was hoping for.

"Yes. Do you love it?"

"Oh, yeah. I haven't been to a fair since high school!"

"What? Are you kidding me?" I ask incredulously.

"Um... it's not Tanya's thing, so we never went to any." Edward looks down sheepishly.

"Well, _I _happen to love fairs! I expect you to win me a teddy bear, take me on the Ferris wheel, and we have to have pink cotton candy."

"Pink?"

"Yes. It tastes better than the blue."

Edward eyes me dubiously. "Bella. It's just dyed spun sugar."

"No, no. Pink rules, and it's not because of the color. It has a softer, fluffier texture than the blue."

"Right..." Edward laughs.

"You don't believe me! Well, I'll show you. I'll bet you a turn on the dunk tank." I lift my chin and offer up a challenging look.

"Ordinary citizens don't go in the dunk tank."

"I know the guy that runs it." I flap my arms and start making chicken sounds.

Edward's eyes hold an intense light, knowing he's being challenged _and_ called a coward. "You're on!" Men: such easy marks.

Edward finds the lot and parks the car. He has a smug look about him.

As we enter the midway, Edward looks all around him. "So where can we buy cotton candy? I can't wait to get you all wet." He smirks.

I smile to myself, knowing that it's _Edward_ that's destined to go for a swim this fine evening.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

This is going to be the easiest bet I've ever won. Seriously? One color of cotton candy is actually superior to another? No way.

"You look awfully confident for someone who's about to lose a bet," Bella says, looking up at me mischievously.

"That's because I _am_ confident as someone who's about to _win_ a bet," I counter, draping my arm over her shoulders and holding her close.

We walk through the fairgrounds until we get to the line at the ticket booth. When it's our turn, I start to pull my wallet out from my back pocket, but Bella stops me. "No. This is my treat."

"But—"

"No." She cuts me off. "You did Seattle the other night. Plus, I called you for this one. It's my treat."

"I don't think there was actually a single phone call harmed in the planning of this date," I reply, half teasing, but mostly trying to distract her so that I can pay the ticket booth employee—a middle-aged blonde woman who's watching us amusedly.

"Fine, I _texted _you," she says, rolling her eyes at my petty clarification. "Yet you still broke the rules by coming to pick me up." She quirks an eyebrow at me, daring me to challenge her.

I sigh. I don't like the idea of Bella paying, but she's determined; plus, she's made a good point. I did break the rules. "So long as you're clear that this is the _only _time this will ever happen, I'll let you pay," I tell her, kissing her temple.

"I'm not going to agree to that," she replies, laughing. Then she turns to the woman in the ticket booth and purchases two unlimited ride bracelets.

Bracelets in hand, and Bella's wallet tucked securely back in her purse, we make our way to a collection of benches not too far from the ticket booth to fasten the bracelets. I put hers on first, letting my fingers linger a little longer than necessary over the pulse point on the underside of her wrist. She gives me a similar treatment, and it's as if we're somehow propelled by each other's lifelines. Her pulse, the blood flowing through her veins, thrills me, and I find myself wondering how _my _blood continued to pump and circulate during the past four years without her.

"What are you thinking?" she whispers, looking up at me almost… reverently.

I offer her my trademark crooked grin, and her mouth drops open minutely, her tongue slipping out to wet her lower lip. Like on the boat, I'm not comfortable sharing the depth of my love for her just yet. Soon, I hope, but not yet. And something like '_Oh, nothing— just wondering how I survived without you'_ seems to be a bit much in these early stages, so I say something more playful. "Just wondering where the cotton candy stand is. I can't wait to see you all wet."

She gasps before laughing. "You!" She socks me playfully on the shoulder.

"Oh, Bella?"

"Yes?"

"One more thing. Given the chance, I'd break the rules again." Her eyes pop in surprise, but I don't give her a chance to rebut me. My arm is once again wrapped securely around her shoulders, and I lead her toward the food court area of the fairgrounds.

We eye stands selling all kinds of typical carnival food: corndogs, fries, elephant ears, popcorn, snow cones, lemonade… "There it is!" Bella's voice is excited as she points out the cotton candy stand where a kid no older than sixteen is twirling the paper cone in the steel bin. When he pulls it out about a minute later, it's covered with the pink confection. There are several bags of blue, purple, and already spun pink cotton candy in plastic bags hanging from hooks all over the tent. She ducks out from under my arm and races toward the stand, pulling out her wallet again. I hurry after her, and before I can protest, she's handing money over to an older woman who looks like she might be the twirler's mom. "We'll take a blue one and that pink one," Bella says, pointing to the cone in the boy's hand.

"Now wait just a minute, Miss Swan," I say. "Of course _that _one's going to be softer and fluffier. It's the freshest. In order for this to be a fair test, we need two that are about the same… age. Is age the right word?" I laugh at the absurdity of what I've just said. I can't believe I'm arguing the age of freakin' cotton candy.

"Fine, fine," she agrees, teasingly reluctant. "One blue and one pink. From bags." She looks at me out of the corner of her eye, and I get the impression she's hoping I'll change my mind.

"No way, Bella," I tease. "I'm not going to lose this bet because you choose one that's newer. I mean, I'm not going to lose the bet anyway, but especially not because you cheat." The woman hands us two bags of the spun sugar, and we thank her before turning away.

"Okay, over here," Bella says, grabbing my hand in her free one and pulling me toward the picnic area near the food court. We sit at a vacant table, and she rips open the plastic bag of the blue candy first. Pulling a piece off, she holds it up to my lips, and I obligingly open, allowing her to place the treat in my mouth. It dissolves almost instantly. "Now the pink one." She sounds so sure of herself, and I love it. She's confident, but not bitchy like Tanya. Tanya had the wrong kind of confidence. _What the hell, Cullen? Quit thinking about your ex._ Bella repeats the movements, this time placing the pink sugar in my mouth, and damn it if she isn't right. It _is_ softer and fluffier.

"Hm," I muse around the mouthful of pink cotton candy, hoping to avoid admitting defeat.

"Hm? Hm? What the hell is 'hm'?" Bella gazes at me intently. "I'm right, aren't I? The pink one is better."

"Well, it's hard to tell with just one taste," I hedge.

"You're so lying to me right now," she says, laughing. "You know the pink one is better. Admit it. I was right, and you were wrong."

I sigh heavily, pretending to be more put out than I really am. Yeah, it's annoying to lose a bet to my girlfriend, but it's not like she'll actually be able to make good on her promise of getting me in the dunk tank. "You're right. The pink is better. It's softer, fluffier, and all around tastier. You win." It's only after I've finished speaking that I realize the thought that crossed my mind just a moment before. _Girlfriend. I just referred to Bella as my girlfriend. _Even silently, that's a big step.

Before I've finished my thought process, Bella's grabbing my hand and pulling me up. "I knew it," she gloats. "Come on. It's the dunk tank for you, mister."

While I'm not comfortable declaring my undying love just yet, I am willing to mention the girlfriend/boyfriend thing to her. I want to do it at just the right moment, and now is not that moment. I promise myself that I'll do it tonight, though, before we leave the carnival. So for now, I put aside those thoughts and focus on the here and now. "You're really going to coerce the poor carney into putting me in the dunk tank?"

"Coerce," she scoffs. "I told you, I know the guy. There will be no coercion necessary." She pulls me through the grounds to the gaming area, past the standard 'knock over the milk bottles,' 'get a ping pong ball in the fishbowl,' and 'pop a balloon with a dart' games, straight to the dunk tank. "Wait here." Her instruction is clear, and I'm again struck by her confidence.

I watch as she makes her way over to the carney and has a short conversation with him, gesturing toward me at one point. My face grows hot, and I realize with dismay that I'm blushing for the second time tonight. That has got to stop. I watch as Bella's smile turns into a grin, and she beckons me over to her and the balding, beer-bellied man running the dunk tank. He looks like he should have half a cigar hanging from his lips, and I chuckle as I walk at my mental image of him, cigar in mouth, red and white striped shirt pulling up, exposing his large stomach. I blink and shake my head, coming back to the present. While his stomach is big, it's covered by a navy blue polo with the carnival's logo on the left breast, and there are no cigars anywhere.

"Edward, this is my uncle, Pete. He's graciously allowed me to deliver on my promise of dunking you in that tank." She points to the one on the left, where a skinny guy with curly brown hair is climbing down the ladder on the outside of the tank.

"You're kidding me." I'm stunned. It's actually her _uncle _working here? Unbelievable.

"You wish," she replies, stretching up on her toes to kiss me on the cheek. "Now go!" She swats me on my ass, propelling me toward the tank.

I cannot believe this is happening. I look back over my shoulder a couple of times, hoping she'll change her mind, but every time I do, Bella just smiles sweetly and waves with her fingers. I gulp and walk slowly, feeling like a condemned man. _Over flippin' cotton candy! _The thought is bitter, unlike the sweet confection that landed me here. When I get to the tank, the curly haired guy who just climbed out says, "A little advice: take off your shoes and shirt. It'll be bad enough being in wet jeans; you don't want to be walking around in squishy shoes, too. Oh, and you might want to leave your wallet and cell phone with your girlfriend."

"Thanks," I mutter. I slowly loosen the laces of my shoes, then remove them along with my socks, shoving the socks inside the sneakers.

"Sometime tonight, Cullen!" Bella jeers from over by Pete.

"Hold your horses!" I holler back as I make my way over toward her, reaching into my pockets to retrieve the valuables I don't want to get water damaged. She watches me curiously until I reach her, handing her the items. She takes them from me and then pushes me back toward the dunk tank.

"Fancy electronics or not, you're not getting out of this. These'll be waiting for you when you get out." She looks altogether too gleeful about the prospect.

Curly is still standing next to the tank when I get back, and he's ready with more advice. "It's better just to get it over with. And it's really not so bad once you get in there. You'll be fine." He thumps me on the back. I pull my white tee-shirt over my head and drop it on the ground on top of my shoes. I consider stripping out of my jeans, too—the thought of wet jeans all night is miserable—but decide I don't really want to be seen at the carnival in just my boxers. As I'm climbing the ladder, Curly shouts one more piece of advice up at me. "Make sure you hold your breath with every pitch. You never know which one will be 'the one.'"

I test the seat with my hand first, not trusting it. When it holds, I know I'm out of excuses. This is really happening. Taking a deep breath, I move over onto the seat. My bare feet are mere inches above the water.

"Ready?" Bella calls.

I grimace. I can't in good conscience lie to her, but the reality is I'll never be ready for this. So I opt not to answer at all, instead making a show out of pinching my nose shut. I draw in a breath, and the second the softball leaves Bella's hand, I shut my eyes tight. _Thump. _I let out my breath in relief. She missed. My eyes open just in time to see Pete hand her another softball. She winds up, and I squeeze my nose and eyes, preparing for the worst. _Thump. _Another miss. I don't let myself get comfortable this time, instead staying braced for her next throw. _Thump. _"Thank God," I mutter, moving to climb out of the tank. I've barely moved two inches when I'm suddenly plunged into icy water. "Gah!" The shout escapes without warning the second my head is above water again. I wipe my eyes so that I can look around. Bella's standing right next to the target with a smug smile on her face.

"You didn't really think my lack of athletic ability would keep you dry, did you?"

I grumble, climbing out of the tank. Truthfully, I had hoped that those thumps of the softballs hitting the canvas instead of the metal target had guaranteed me a dry evening. Curly hands me a towel once I'm on the ground outside the tank again, and I accept it gladly, drying my face and hair first.

Bella giggles while I dry—with only mild success—and redress. When my feet are finally shoved back into my shoes, she shouts her thanks to Pete, who smiles at her and waves. As we walk, I wish it was a summer day instead of an early spring night; any hopes of drying before it's time to get back in the Volvo are shattered.

"Do you want to eat first, or go on rides first?" Bella asks.

"Doesn't matter. I don't get motion sickness," I tell her. "What would you prefer?"

"Really? You don't get motion sick?" she asks.

I shake my head.

"I wish I was that lucky. Unfortunately, I _do _get motion sick. Not too bad, but if I eat before going on the fast, spinning rides, well… let's just say you'll be messy as well as wet."

"Are you okay going on the rides before you eat? Because I don't want to be 'messy,'" I reply, making air-quotes at her term. "No offense, of course. I just don't want anyone's puke all over me, not even my own."

She's giggling while I try to make myself sound like less of an idiot. "Stop. Just stop." She starts laughing so hard that she's practically doubled over, and I'm reminded of our fit at her father's house just before we left to come here. I suspect that I'll be falling asleep to that memory tonight. "It's fine, Edward. I get it. I wouldn't want to be thrown up on, either. So long as we ride before we eat, I'll be fine. The rides—even the ones that spin fast—don't affect me unless I eat right before."

That strikes me as unusual, but she knows her body better than I do, so I trust her. We make our way over to the rides area, and using an entirely unscientific method that consists of us each choosing our favorite rides that we don't want to miss and looking at the line length of each, we make a game plan. One of her rides, then one of mine, and according to Bella, "the Ferris wheel before we leave."

I don't argue with that request. The top of the Ferris wheel in the black sky with the lights of the carnival spread out below us seems like the perfect place to mention my earlier thoughts.

As we're standing in line for one of Bella's rides, my mind wanders back to our… encounter when I picked her up. It was so wrong, yet so right. After spending the day away from her, I realized about an hour before she was supposed to pick me up that I didn't want to wait any more. I paced all over the living room until my family practically went up in arms and threw me out.

I'd intended to just pick her up, keep things casual like they had been all week, but when I saw her standing up there, framed in the window, I was a goner. I stood on the stoop, waiting for her to open the door. She was surprisingly quick, and practically fell out the door into my arms, and I couldn't stop myself. Without conscious thought, my lips were on hers. Though there were no real thoughts running through my mind at the time, I still knew that I was in the exact right place. When I pulled away for a breath and she seemed embarrassed about our kissing in full view of the neighbors, I probably should have stopped. I wasn't ready, though. With every fiber of my being, I had to keep kissing Bella. It wasn't just a desire; it was a _need. _

The mere memory of the kiss is making me hard again, and after adjusting myself—inconspicuously, I hope—I force myself back to the here and now. The noises of the carnival are, in themselves, a reminder that Bella and I share something different. I'd been telling the truth about Tanya not ever wanting to do anything like this, and I hadn't actually realized until tonight how much I missed such simple things. The fancy stuff is fun, too, but I really feel in my element doing traditional, small-town activities.

An hour and a half later, we've ridden all of the rides—twice—except for the Ferris wheel and are both starving. "You sure you're not going to get sick eating this soon after riding?" I ask. My jeans are still quite wet, and I have no interest in adding puke to the mix.

"Yes, I'm sure." She smiles at me.

"And just to be certain," I begin; I should just trust her, but I can't stop myself asking, "the Ferris wheel won't make you sick?"

"No, I'll be fine on the Ferris wheel. It's only the fast rides that cause me problems."

I nod, satisfied that I won't end up a disgusting mess. We make our way back to the food court, where Bella once again insists on buying. We each have a hamburger, and we share a plate of fries and a soda. Sharing a drink feels kind of intimate, and honestly, I like it.

When we finish eating, we clear our table and head back through the fairgrounds. As we walk, I remember that Bella asked for three things when we first arrived here tonight: pink cotton candy, a ride on the Ferris wheel, and for me to win her a teddy bear from one of the games. I'm not ready to get on the Ferris wheel yet, so I pull her toward the milk-bottle game. "What are you doing?" she asks, her expression somewhere between amused and confused as we stop in front of the booth.

"I'm winning you a teddy bear," I tell her seriously before turning to the man running the game. "How much?"

"Three pitches for two dollars," he tells me, and his tone reminds me of a depression-era newspaper boy. I can easily imagine this voice shouting _Extra, extra! Read all about it! _Despite the fact that I'm already a customer here, he's trying to convince me that the price is a good deal. "Knock over all six bottles in one pitch, you get a big prize; if it takes two, you get one from the mid-level, and if you need the third, you get a poster." He gestures toward the shelves as he describes each level of prize.

I eye the shelves, looking only at the two upper levels of prizes; I didn't come here to walk away with a lousy poster. There are teddy bears on both levels of prizes; satisfied with the selection, I pull two singles out of my wallet and hand them to him amid complaints from Bella. "Edward, no. These games are rigged; don't waste your money."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "You asked me for three things tonight, and so far, I've only delivered on one of them. And technically, _you _delivered on it. Honestly, you're the one delivering on the third one, too." I raise my arm, displaying the ride bracelet she insisted on paying for as proof. "What kind of date would I be if I don't give you the other thing you asked for?"

"What kind of date would _I_ be letting you spend your money on a game that's impossible to win?"

"Don't you worry about that," I tell her, turning back to the man, who hands me three large softballs. I note with amusement that the carnival must have stock in the softball company; they were used at the dunk tank, too. Setting two of the balls down on the waist-high ledge in front of me, I weigh the third in my hand. I squint at the six bottles on a table in the middle of the man's booth and try to judge aim and power, hoping to knock them all over with just one throw. When I'm confident that I'll be able to do it, I pull my right arm back and release the ball at just the right time. It hits dead center, knocking down four of the six bottles with a satisfying clatter. Unfortunately, this means that I've now got the equivalent of a split in bowling.

"That's not an easy thing to recover from," the carney jeers.

Ignoring him, I rub my hand over my face, thinking. There is a way to do it, I'm sure of that. Worst case scenario, I start a new game; it's only two dollars. I'd love to win the game the first time out, though. On top of Bella getting her teddy bear, it'll make me look good.

I pick up one of my two remaining softballs and toss it gently in the air, catching it easily. Somehow, the weight of the ball in my hand is just the reminder I need of how to complete the split. I wind up and throw the ball, aiming for the very outside, bottom edge of the bottle on the right. Just like I'd hoped, the bottle topples and spins just a bit, sliding into the other one and they both fall, joining the first four on the grass inside the tent. "Yes!" I can't keep the word from escaping, even though by letting it out, I feel about eight years younger than I am.

"Congratulations," the carney drawls, not sounding at all like he means it. I'm sure that's because he was expecting to get a lot more than two measly dollars out of me. He would have, too. There was no way I was leaving here without a prize for Bella, no matter how much it cost.

He gestures to the shelf of second-tier prizes, and I look at Bella. "Your choice," I tell her, smiling.

She grins at me, obviously impressed that I won the game at all, much less on the first try, then turns to look at the shelf of stuffed animals. "That one," she finally says, pointing at a pink elephant. The man retrieves it from the prize shelf and hands it to her.

"I thought you wanted a teddy bear," I say as we walk away from the gaming area toward the Ferris wheel; the sun set nearly two hours ago, and it's dark now. The perfect time to be at the top of the wheel.

"Eh, everyone has a teddy bear. An elephant is much more memorable."

We stand in the queue for the ride, just enjoying being near each other; the silence between us is comfortable. With my arm around Bella, I watch the other carnival-goers. My eye is particularly drawn to a young family walking past. The father is pushing a stroller, and the mother is holding the hand of an older child. Although, older is relative; the girl can't be more than three. She laughs and squeals as they make their way across the grass, toward the kiddie rides. I feel my eyes glaze over as I picture me in the place of that father, pushing a stroller with one hand and holding Bella's in the other while she holds the hand of a toddler. What could be better than walking through the carnival with your family? It strikes me at that moment that I never thought about kids the entire time I was with Tanya. Not once. Now, in less than ten days with Bella, I'm doing just that. What a change. It's also further confirmation for me that I'm with the right girl now.

"You okay?" Bella's quiet voice interrupts my daydream.

"Perfect," I reply, smiling down at her.

When we make it to the front of the line, the ride operator opens the bar, letting out the previous occupants, then gestures us in. I hold Bella's hand while the operator holds the car still so she can climb in safely. Once she's seated, I join her, and the man closes the lap bar in front of us and inserts a pin to hold it closed. Bella and I are sitting as close to each other as possible, and I've once again wrapped my arm around her shoulder. It takes a good ten minutes of starting, moving a little bit, then stopping again to load more people onto the ride before it really gets going. I don't know how many rotations the wheel is going to make, and I have something important to say before the ride is over. I'm nervous, though, really nervous. Butterflies are dancing in my stomach, and I feel like a silly schoolboy with a crush. _It's not just a crush, _I remind myself. _This is so much more than that. _I think back to just a few moments before, when I imagined myself and Bella with a three-year-old daughter and an infant son, and I know that I want that. It's going to take starting with a small step. We're at the top of the wheel now, and the lights of the fair illuminate the ground below us. It's stunning. "Look, Bella." I point out over the fairgrounds, and she follows my hand.

"Amazing," she murmurs, snuggling into me.

As the wheel continues to rotate, I take a deep breath. I don't want to rush the conversation I'm about to start, but I also want to finish before the ride is over. The atmosphere is perfect here, and I don't think it will be as good anywhere else.

Clearing my throat, I begin to talk. "What do you think of labels?"

"Labels?" She sits up, looking confused. "Like on soup cans?"

I laugh quietly. That is the logical place for one's mind to jump at such a random question as the one I asked. "I suppose those are labels, but I was thinking more about relationship labels."

"Oh!" she gasps. "Um, well, I don't know. I mean, I've only ever been in one relationship before, and it was… labeled, I guess."

I feel like I've talked myself into a corner here; that was not my intention. She's not even looking at me right now. "Bella?"

She finally turns her head, and her eyes meet mine.

"I know that things are moving fast between us, and if this is too fast, that's okay." I tack on the clarifier at the end, though I hope she won't be put off by what I'm about to say. "I've been doing a lot of thinking the past several days and even more so here tonight. I'm not trying to push you, but I think it's important that you know I mean every word of what I'm about to say. I've loved spending time with you and getting to know you like we should have four years ago."

"I've loved it, too, Edward," she says. "And I'm looking forward to spending many more hours with you." She smiles warmly, turning her eyes into pools of melted chocolate.

Her statement is enough to push me forward, though I thought I was losing my nerve just a moment ago. "Will you be my girlfriend?" Despite the fact that I know I'm asking the right question, the tops of my ears heat in embarrassment at asking it.

There's a _clunk _as the Ferris wheel stops to begin the process of switching riders. We're at the very top, and I look out across the fairgrounds, not sure whether I want to watch Bella's face as she really processes what I've just said.

A few seconds pass, and before we're moving again, she says, "Edward, look at me."

I oblige, turning my head.

"Yes. I've been waiting to hear you ask me that since I was seventeen years old! Of course I'll be your girlfriend." She wraps her arms around my neck, capturing my lips with hers; I'm soaring as the Ferris wheel begins to move again.

**~*SN*~**

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**A/N: So a really fun chapter to write, and we hope you had a lot of fun reading. Everybody knows pink cotton candy rules! Silly Edward. Next chapter we will find out what Bella intends to do after Spring Break is over. We'd love to hear your theories.**

**As always, reviewers will receive a special teaser that won't be available anywhere else. It's our special thanks to you for all those awesome—and often hilarious—reviews. Remember, if you have PMs disabled or leave anonymous reviews, we can't answer you!**

**Follow us on Twitter: (at) SaritaDreaming and (at) wmr1601**


	14. Chapter 12 From the Ruins

**A/N: Hello, everyone! This week **_**'Speak Now'**_** is one of the Fab Four featured stories on The Lemonade Stand. Thank you so much to all of you for getting out there an voting for us! Kitty Vuitton wrote a lovely review of the story, which you can read on The Lemonade Stand blog. The link is on my profile.**

**As always, thanks to Caz, Keye and Sandy, our prereaders and friends, for all their valuable feedback and suggestions. Huge thanks to our beta, Jess (jkane180), for wielding that Sparkly Red Pen of hers—especially since Wendy and I both have a tendency to mix a little past in with our present. *cough***

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**Chapter 12**

**~From the Ruins~**

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**~*Bella*~**

My heart is pumping furiously as the Ferris wheel jolts a few feet and stops again. Edward's arm is around my shoulders, his other hand holding mine tight, and I'm grateful that I'm leaning on his shoulder looking out over the bright lights of the fair—lights that are blurred because of the tears in my traitorous eyes.

I feel a little silly having Edward ask me to 'be his girlfriend,' and I can tell he felt a bit apprehensive asking me, but not silly enough to suppress the elation flowing through me. It's as though sunshine has burst through every pore in my skin as I bloom to life. In fact, I've been slowly coming to life from the frozen state of stasis that I've maintained since high school without even knowing it. I suppose it's a little bit like being in a smoky bar... you don't realize the haze you've been breathing through until you go outside and take in gulps of clean, fresh air. Between the decision Charlie helped me make and Edward's question, I'm coming out of the fog I've been living in. It feels really good, but it's also intimidating. Not to mention, I'm really disappointed in myself for allowing my life to go the way it did before I decided to leave Mike and he confessed the truth.

The Ferris wheel moves another several feet, and now we're halfway down on the front with the entire fair laid out before us. I blink furiously, determined not to let Edward see me crying. In my peripheral vision, I can see him staring at me, and I pretend to be fascinated with all the sites, so I don't have to look his way yet. Slowly, his face draws closer to mine, and he presses a kiss to the side of my face. His warm breath causes goosebumps to rise on my skin as he whispers, "I'm so happy I'm here with you, Bella."

"Me, too."

Closing my eyes so he won't see the tears shining in them, I twist in my seat so I can kiss his lips. My fingers caress his cheek, and the contrast between the smooth skin giving way to the dusting of stubble along his jaw makes me swoon, bringing me back to high school. I always loved it when Edward had that bad boy look. I wonder if he still has a black leather jacket.

His lips are so soft and warm. Letting go of my hand, he reaches over to grasp my shoulder, pulling me in closer to him. With a soft groan, Edward licks at my lip, and we find ourselves making out on the Ferris wheel like two teenagers. I'm pretty sure everyone standing below can see us, and I'm also pretty sure I don't give a shit. I'm totally lost in his kiss... until we're thrown back by the movement of the wheel again, and I bite by own tongue.

"Mm-mm... ouch!" I yelp, pulling away.

"Ow!"

Oops... guess I got both our tongues. We look at each other and start laughing.

"Guess that's what we get for our PDA on the Ferris wheel." Edward smirks.

"It was totally worth it."

"It was, wasn't it?"

Finally, we get to the bottom and walk down the flimsy metal walkway that leads back to the grass. I hop over a few thick black cables—the last thing I need is to fall on my face in front of Edward.

He takes my hand, and we start walking in no particular direction, weaving in and out of the aisles and looking at all the stands. My pink elephant is tucked securely under one arm, and I feel on top of the world. As we leave the section with all the games and food, we come to what I call the 'peddling stands.' That's where you can find a myriad of different goods and services: hot tubs for sale (seriously, who buys a hot tub at a fair?), kitchen cabinets, the Republicans, the Democrats, the Libertarians, Girl Scouts, 4 H, sand art, jewelry, and tucked in between a stand with wooden toys and another selling life insurance is... the Forks Chamber of Commerce table, run by none other than Mrs. Stanley. The same Mrs. Stanley that told my dad I was carrying Edward's lovechild.

Edward sees her about the same time I do and attempts to pull me in another direction, but I tug back. "No, Edward."

"Bella..." he says softly.

"Let's see what the Chamber of Commerce has for the fairgoers, shall we?" I ask flippantly, dragging him with me.

I stroll along the edge of the table, looking at the fliers and brochures that are laid out. I pick up one for First Beach—which is technically on the Quileute reservation but is still considered an area attraction. My eye lands on one that says 'Forks... a lovely place to raise a family. Good neighbors and all the benefits of small town living.'

"Bella," Edward warns in a harsh whisper when he sees what I'm holding in my hand.

_Sorry, Edward, if I'm about to embarrass you, but..._

"Oh, look... they forgot to add something to this brochure," I begin in a loud, clear voice. "They forgot to mention that Forks boasts the best gossip mongers in all of the Olympic Peninsula."

Mrs. Stanley, who's been chatting up a young couple, freezes mid-sentence and looks up at me with wide eyes. "Bella Swan? Why... I haven't seen you since you left for college." She smiles nervously, and I can tell she hopes I won't make a scene right here.

_Sorry, no can do._

"Really? For someone who hasn't seen me in _years_ you sure were quick to tell the entire town that I busted up a wedding because I was carrying the intended groom's _lovechild_." Pushing my pink elephant into Edward's arms—and not looking to see how embarrassed he is at what I'm doing—I put my hands on my hips and give Mrs. Stanley my best glare.

"Oh, how silly, Bella!" She waves her hand. "That wasn't me. I would never..."

"So you're calling my father—the Chief of Police, mind you—a liar then?" I challenge.

"Well... I ..."

The young couple glances at each other, quickly deciding this is not where they want to be. They mumble something and take off, leaving Mrs. Stanley with only me in her face.

I rub a hand over my belly. "Well, aren't you going to ask me when the baby's due?"

Her face is beet red, and she looks down at her feet.

"No? Well, I'll tell you anyway. When Edward and I decide it's time, that's when. _ How_ old are you? You have a daughter my age, and you're going around spreading rumors about someone else's child? Do you ever even stop to think about the people you hurt with your gossip? You're pathetic."

Turning away from the red-faced Mrs. Stanley, I see a group of people have gathered and are watching us in shock. I grab Edward's hand and pull him with me, muttering, "Show's over, folks."

I walk fast, almost at a run, dragging Edward behind me until we're at the edge of the fair where the employee trailers and various trucks are parked. It's dark and quiet, and I sit on a bench, pulling him down with me.

I'm afraid to look at him, and I hope he's not angry with me. He sits silently next to me, and I feel the hand holding mine start to shake. Oh, shit. He must be shaking with anger.

"Edward, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me... please don't be angry."

"Angry?" The word flies out of his mouth in a loud laugh.

"What?" I turn to look at him, and he's shaking with... laughter. In fact, even in the darkness, I can see how red his face is.

"Oh, my God... you really... told her. Did you see... her... face?" Edward is howling now.

"Edward, it's not funny! She told everyone that I broke up your wedding because I was pregnant!"

He tries to stop laughing, but he can't—he's doubled over, clutching his stomach. Slowly, his laughter subsides when he sees that I'm _not_ laughing.

"Bella..." another laugh "...what's wrong?"

"It's just not right what she did." I cross my arms over my chest and lift my chin.

Edward puts his hand over his mouth in an attempt to conceal the grin he can't hold back.

"Edward Cullen! You stop that!" I yell, stomping my foot petulantly as I stand up from the bench.

And then I'm laughing, too. Maybe what I did to Mrs. Stanley will make the gossip monger think twice before she spews her fairy tales about someone else.

"Are you ready to go now that everyone at the fair knows you might be carrying my lovechild?" Edward lets out another loud guffaw.

Then I remember what I said to Mrs. Stanley about Edward and me deciding when we were ready to have a baby, and I can feel my face flaming as my laughter dries up. _Oh, good Lord... why did I say that? What was I thinking?_

"Bella? What's wrong?" Edward isn't laughing anymore either. He stands up, brushing my cheek with the backs of his knuckles.

"Um... I'm sorry for what I said to Mrs. Stanley... about us having a baby when we're good and ready. It just slipped out in my anger. I hope you don't think I assume we're going to... you know."

"It's okay, Bella. It didn't bother me." He looks down into my face, but the long shadows keep me from being able to see his expression.

"It didn't? Well, that's a relief. I didn't want you to think I'm plotting to have your children or something." I laugh, but Edward doesn't. His knuckles halt their soothing movement, freezing in place on my cheek. "Edward? Did I say something wrong?"

"No." His voice is rough, but it's hard to gauge his mood with his face bathed in shadow. "We should head back to the car."

He takes my hand in his, and we walk in companionable silence to the grassy field where the car is parked. Against the fence that runs along the parking area, I see two teenagers lying on the ground making out. The girl is on her back in the long grass, and her boyfriend is on top, kissing her deeply. His hand runs up and down the back of her leg which is hitched around his hip. I know it's rude to stare, but they _are_ in a very public place, and I just can't tear my eyes away from them. No, I've never been the type to be so blatant with public displays of affection, but watching them just reminds me that Edward and I were robbed of the chance to have such an experience.

"Bella?"

At the sound of Edward's voice, I realize that my footsteps have slowed while I gawk at the groping teens. Shaking it off, I speed up, matching Edward's long strides as best I can.

"Sorry."

"You seem fascinated with the couple lying in the grass," Edward muses.

"Yeah... I guess there are just so many things I see that remind me of all that we never got to experience together."

"If you want, we can totally roll around in the grass making out." He snickers.

This brings me out of my fog, and I laugh with Edward. "Nah. The grass is wet at night. Maybe sometime during the day when the sun is out, though..."

"I know just the place."

"You do?" I glance up at him, but again, I'm foiled by the semidarkness of the parking area; the halogen lamps surrounding it don't throw enough light to reach the center of the lot.

"Oh, yeah. I have this special place I used to go..." Edward's voice trails off wistfully.

"Anywhere I know?"

"I doubt it. It's a special place I found when hiking through the woods behind my parents' house. I used to go there to think... and dream."

"Ever bring any chicks out there?" I tease.

"No. Never." Edward's tone is serious, and even in the dark, I can see his jaw tighten. Suddenly, he brings our joined hands up to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the back of my hand. "You're the only one I've ever considered bringing there."

"That's so sweet, Edward. I can't wait to go."

"How about tomorrow? We'll bring a picnic lunch."

"That sounds perfect."

On the drive home, I sit close to Edward with his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in tight. Every so often, he kisses my hair and sighs lightly. I can tell he's really happy we're together, and so am I.

The closer we get to town, the more dread fills me. It feels as though there's acid swishing around in my stomach, and I don't want to leave him. Even though we're still in the car, it's as if I can already feel the loss of his body heat, the loss of his touch, and I can't bear it.

"Edward..."

"Stay with me tonight?"

We speak at the same time. And he doesn't have to ask me twice.

"Yes. I'd love to."

"Good." Edward lets out a breath. "I thought I'd have to try and lure you into my lair," he jokes.

"Not at all. I was just thinking that I didn't want to be away from you."

"Do you need to stop at Charlie's for anything?"

"Yeah. I'd like to grab some things. He's out with Sue tonight, so I'll just leave him a note. At least there won't be any awkward scenes." I giggle at the thought of Charlie and his 'Meet the Parents' repertoire.

"Sue?"

"Sue Clearwater from the Res. My dad is finally dating! I'm so excited for him."

"I don't think I know her. I'm happy for your dad, though, and maybe he'll get off _my_ case a little."

"Don't count on it, Focker," I deadpan, holding back a laugh. I know that Charlie isn't about to let Edward off the hook—not for a good while yet.

"Too much to hope for, huh?"

"Um... yeah." I nod my head.

When we reach Charlie's, my dad is still out on his 'date.' Not sure when he'll arrive home—and hoping to avoid any awkward scenes—I rush up to my room and pack a duffel with my clothes and toiletries. When I get back downstairs, I go into the kitchen and scrawl a quick note to Charlie, leaving it on the table.

_Dad,_

_Staying at Edward's tonight. He's taking me on a picnic tomorrow, so don't expect me home until dinnertime. Hope you and Sue had a great time!_

_Love, Bella_

Edward is waiting in the car, but when he sees me coming, he gets out and walks around to open the door for me. _Could he be any more of a gentleman?_ As I settle into my seat, a feeling of warmth comes over me. Maybe I lost a lot of time with Edward, but we're together now, and I'm going to fight hard to keep him in my life. I won't let Tanya or anyone else come between us again.

When the cottage comes into view, my stomach rolls a little. Even though I spent the night here last week, this time it's a conscious decision I made to sleep next to Edward—because I sure as hell know that he's not sleeping in the den tonight. No, I want to be wrapped up in his arms all night long.

The cottage looks much the same as it did when I was here last. Edward's not a sloppy bachelor, and I admire that.

"Wow, most guys would have the place a mess by now," I comment.

"Esme would kick my ass!" Edward laughs. "I'm fairly neat by nature, but not quite this neat."

We stand in the living room awkwardly for a moment before Edward hangs his keys on the hook by the door. He turns to face me with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Why don't you make yourself comfortable, Bella? I'm going to get out of these _wet_ _jeans_ and take a shower, if you don't mind. I'll bring your duffel bag into the bedroom for you."

I blush. "Um, sure. Sorry about the wet jeans. We probably should have done that at the end of the fair instead of the beginning." It must have been uncomfortable to walk around in those soaked jeans all evening, but Edward never let on and seemed to have a great time tonight.

"A bet is a bet, and I lost fair and square. It was worth it to chafe my... um... it was worth it because I got to spend the evening with you."

My blush deepens, and I look down shyly. How does he always know just what to say?

Hooking a finger in the handle of my duffel bag, he heads into the bedroom. A few minutes later, I hear the shower turn on.

I stand looking out the front window into the dark night. The vegetation is barely visible in the moonlight. My mind wanders as I imagine Edward naked under the hot spray. My nipples tingle, and I press my legs together as desire floods my system.

_Calm down, Bella. Get a hold of yourself!_

Visions of Edward in the shower—head back and eyes closed as the water darkens his bronze hair and runs over his lean muscles—assault me over and over again. My daydream is cut short when Edward comes up behind me. I feel his warm breath on my ear just a second before he speaks.

"Penny for your thoughts, beautiful..." he whispers. His lips barely touch my ear, but the contact sends a tingle shooting through me from head to toe.

Startled, I turn to face him. He's only an inch away, and his arms slide around my waist as he looks down at me, his expression unreadable.

"Edward... you startled me."

"I see that. What were you so deep in thought about?"

My mind drifts back to my little fantasy, and my cheeks heat up. I wonder if Edward came out of the shower in a towel—_get your mind out of the gutter, Bella—_but I realize I can feel soft cotton beneath my fingers, which made their way to rest on his chest without my noticing. The forest green t-shirt he's wearing only serves to highlight the beauty of his eyes; I'm always amazed at the way they seem to change color depending on his mood and the colors around him. Right now they seem to be a very dark green, and they search mine seriously.

"Just... lost in thought," I say lamely.

"Anything you'd care to share?" He smirks at me, and suddenly I'm sure he can read my mind and knows exactly what I was fantasizing about.

"No, not really. Anything you want to share with me?" I smile coyly.

"Actually, I couldn't get my mind off you while I was in the shower, Bella." He leans his head down, and his lips kiss along the side of my neck. "Being in there, knowing you were right out here, so close to me..." More kisses. I'm lost in the sensation, and when he licks a trail across my collarbone, I think I've died and gone to heaven.

"Mm-mm, Edward... what are you doing to me?"

"Turning you on, I hope," he murmurs against my shoulder.

"Affirmative," I gasp, tilting my head to give him better access as his lips travel across my shoulder to nestle in the crook of my neck.

"Would you like to watch a movie or just go to bed?" His voice is low and seductive.

"Bed."

Edward straightens, and I miss his lips as soon as they leave my skin. He holds a hand out to me and leads me into the bedroom. I see my duffel bag sitting on the floor next to the dresser. He caresses my cheek and places a chaste kiss on my forehead. "I'll give you some privacy. Let me know if you need anything."

And then he's gone, pulling the door shut behind him. _Oh, good God._

I bring my bag into the bathroom and change into a tank top and a pair of shorts—I never could stand to wear much to bed, even in the winter. I brush my teeth and wash my face. When I run out of things to do, I look into my own eyes in the mirror and admit that I'm stalling. I'm nervous. I realize when Edward asked if I wanted to watch a movie or go to bed that immediately answering 'Bed' might lead him to think I'm eager to jump in the sack with him. Which I _am,_ yet, at the same time, I'm not. Mike is the only man I've ever been with, and I'm a little afraid to take that step with Edward.

A sudden anger overcomes me when I think about giving my virginity up to Mike. He knew damn well that he tricked me, ruined my chances with Edward, conspired with Tanya, and still… he took my innocence. While I'm trying not to hold a grudge against Mike, this is something I'm having a harder time forgiving him for.

Finally, I realize I can't stall any longer, and I head back into the bedroom. As I put my duffel back in its place beside the dresser, there's a light knock on the doorframe. "May I come in?"

"Sure." I glance down at the hardwood floor, suddenly feeling shy.

A moment later, Edward's bare feet are in front of me. Slowly, my eyes rove up his legs, which are clad in navy plaid sleep pants, up over his forest green t-shirt, to find him looking down at me with a mix of affection and concern. He cups my cheek in his large hand and smiles at me. "Are you all right, Bella? Something seems off with you..."

Placing my hand over his, I hold it to my face and smile back. "I'm fine, Edward. It's just that I feel like I'm teasing you..." I drift off, unsure how to word this right, knowing that I'm botching it all up.

"Teasing me?" His expression is confounded. "How are you teasing me?"

"Because I wanted to sleep here, but I don't think I'm ready to... you know." Pulling back from him, I attempt to cover my face with my hands. "So much of our relationship is happening backwards. I have all these feelings and desires, but we haven't put the time in for them to be acceptable."

Edward grabs my hands, pulling them away from my face and holding them down at my sides. "There's no rush. You're not teasing me. I didn't expect anything from you tonight; just to hold you. If it makes you more comfortable, I'll sleep in the den."

"No. I – I want you wrapped around me tonight. I just didn't want you to think I was a tease."

"Shh... Bella. Lay down with me. Let me hold you. It's enough for me." Releasing one of my hands, he uses the other to lead me over to the bed, turning down the covers.

As I slide between the sheets, Edward goes around the cottage shutting off the lights. He leaves the lamp beside the bed on the lowest setting, and it casts a soft golden glow over the room. Climbing into bed, he turns on his side to face me, one hand running through my hair gently. His touch both soothes and sends electric shivers through me at the same time.

As I relax, I run my hand over his chest. My anxiety melts away, and my body's natural reaction to his close proximity takes over. When he leans in to kiss me, I'm more than ready for him; our lips part slightly, brushing back and forth against each other. He wraps his arm around my back, pulling me in closer, and kisses his way across my jaw and down the sensitive skin of my throat. When his lips nibble at my earlobe, I moan softly.

"Are you okay?" he whispers.

"Yes," I sigh. My body is tingling all over, and I want so much more from him.

Edward continues nibbling and licking along my neck, his warm breath searing my skin, and I feel wetness pooling between my legs. I rub my foot along his calf, and he rolls us slightly until he's hovering over me. His eyelids flutter closed as he moves in for another kiss, and my arms wrap around his neck, my fingers running lightly through his hair. He drags his tongue along my bottom lip, and I open to him. As his tongue explores my mouth, I can feel his hips shift forward slightly, and his hardness rubs up against my thigh.

Edward encourages me to tilt my head so he can deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with mine in a hypnotic dance that has me melting into a puddle of desire beneath him. His hand caresses my side, sliding down to my hip. A few moments later, I feel the edge of my tank top rising, and then his warm hand is against the bare skin of my navel, sending more tingles shooting through my body. He moves slowly, never rushing, as his fingers finally reach my breasts and dance lightly across my now aching nipples. He palms my left breast, squeezing lightly, and moans into my mouth.

"You're so beautiful, my Bella."

Lifting my tank further, he bends his head down to take a nipple between his lips, rolling his tongue around the hardened peak. I whimper softly, my fingers tightening their hold in his hair. He takes his time, his lips eventually kissing their way over to the other straining nipple and lavishing attention on it while I writhe beneath him. A few times, his hard-on pokes me in the thigh as he shifts his body, but I notice that he takes care not to make it too obvious. Edward goes slowly with me, and I never feel as though he's impatient to move on to something else.

When he kisses his way down to my belly button and licks along the edge of my shorts, I involuntarily stiffen. He places a few soft kisses up my side, tickling my ribs, and I can't help but let out a giggle. Rising up over me to look down into my face, he smirks. "Ticklish? I'll have to file _that _away for future reference..."

My entire body is tingling, and there's a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. Edward kisses me again, his tongue moving languidly against mine. Pulling away, he rolls into a side-lying position, encouraging me to place my back to his front, and puts his arms around me. Pushing my hair out of the way, his warm breath ghosts against the back of my neck, and he places open-mouthed kisses along my shoulder to under my ear. I find myself really turned on when he licks the shell of my ear lightly; I had no idea that was one of my 'hot spots' until now. Unable to help myself, I squirm a bit, letting out a low moan.

"Mm-mm, Edward, you have a magic tongue..."

"You haven't even _seen_ what my tongue can do yet," he whispers, licking along my ear again.

I lose my breath at the thought of where else he could use his talented tongue, and I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks. I love the idea of him going down on me, but at the same time, I'm really nervous about it. For some reason, I never let Mike do that to me. After all, tasting someone in that way seems more intimate to me than regular sex. Mike never pushed the issue, so I didn't give it much deep thought. I never went down on Mike, either, and that he _did _complain about a few times, but I think his guilt held him back from delving too deeply into my reasons.

"Penny for your thoughts..."

I laugh. "Not a chance, Cullen."

"Being shy, are we?" he asks, pulling me tighter against his body. I can feel his hardness pressing against my ass, and I suppress the urge to wiggle against it—I don't want to invite what I'm not ready for quite yet.

"Why did you stop?" The words tumble out before I can prevent it, and I'm horrified once they're hanging in the air between us.

But Edward doesn't seem perturbed in the least. He gives me a little squeeze and kisses my shoulder. "Because this is enough for now. There's no rush, Bella; we have plenty of time to explore us. Do I want you? Hell, yeah. But I want to savor you, give you wonderful memories, not something hurried that you might regret later."

Tears prick my eyes. "That's so sweet, Edward. It means a lot to me. Are you sure that's okay with you, though? I mean..." I flounder.

"Shh... I'm sure."

"Thanks for not pushing me. I want you... I really do, but..."

"Be-ellla..." Edward groans. "Saying things like that won't help me behave myself."

"Sorry, sorry."

"Goodnight, sweet girl."

"Goodnight, Edward."

He snakes his hand under my tank top, placing it over one breast. "Is this okay?"

"You want to sleep with your hand up my shirt?"

"Yes?" His answer comes out like a question, and I giggle.

And that's how I fall asleep—with his hand up my shirt and his nose buried in my hair._ Mm-mm... heaven._

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I feel Bella falling asleep in my arms. Her breathing is slow and steady within minutes, and I revel in the feeling of her lungs moving in and out against my chest. I'm still hard and aching for release, but I'd rather lie here, holding her close, with my hand up her shirt than take care of my 'problem.' It strikes me that she never actually answered my question as to whether it was appropriate, the fact that I've slipped my hand up her shirt; although, she didn't say 'no' and kick me out of bed, so I figure I'm covered. I snicker silently at the idea of covering, since that's exactly what I'm doing to her breast right now. _Knock it off, you're not seventeen anymore, _I tell myself. _Covering. Jeez. _To stop the silent laughs threatening to overtake me, I think back over our date.

While I actually _hated_ the dunk tank, I'd repeat the whole fiasco in a heartbeat to see Bella look so elated again. With anyone else, the glee, the 'I'm right and you're wrong' attitude, might have been irritating, but not with Bella. It's hard to explain, even to myself, why that is. She's just so… happy all the time. I wonder if she's always been like that, or if, like me, she's really finding herself again after having been lost, making mistake after mistake over the past four years.

I force myself out of that train of thought; mistakes or no mistakes, I know I'm in the right place now. I'm not interested in brooding over the past, over what we've lost—what was _stolen _from us—any longer. That's all moot now. There's nothing that can be done to change it or win those years back, so it's best to just move forward. I can live with moving forward, I decide. Moving forward means being with Bella instead, and that prospect is very promising. I smile into her hair.

I remember the way she gazed almost longingly at the teenagers in the grass while we were leaving the fair. I'm not sure how I feel about such a blatant display of affection, but Bella looked so… so much like she wanted that experience that I felt compelled to make her the offer of something similar. I don't think I can bring myself to lie down in the grass at the fair and make a complete spectacle of us, but I can take her somewhere else, somewhere outside, to simulate the experience. I'll kiss her in public every day of the week, even deeply, like on the Ferris wheel, but rolling around on the grass like those two were somehow seems different.

These thoughts lead me to the place I've committed to taking her tomorrow. I was telling the truth when I said that I'd never even considered taking anyone else to the field; it was my special place, someplace I went when I just wanted some quiet, alone time to contemplate things. The ruins in the center of the field were perfect for contemplating things that didn't make sense, because honestly, they themselves didn't make sense. By being with Tanya, I'd essentially decided that I'd never see it again; I know she wouldn't have understood the pull the field has for me. As girly as it sounds, I'm actually excited to see my special area tomorrow. I haven't been there in… well, honestly, nearly four years. It's funny how that number keeps cropping up, as if a light switch was flipped on that fateful night of Mike's party, changing my life from innocent, carefree, and pining over Bella, to serious, miserable, and stuck to Tanya. Looking back, it really was nearly as instantaneous as my analogy, too; one minute I was making out with Bella, and not ten minutes later, I spotted her with Mike. The very thought turns my stomach, and my hand tenses and squeezes her harder than I mean to.

"Hurts," Bella mumbles, and I immediately open my fingers.

"I'm sorry, beautiful," I murmur, hoping that she's still asleep and doesn't actually hear me.

She makes an incoherent sound and shifts slightly, once again dead to the world. I breathe a sigh of relief. _Now be careful, dumbass, and don't do that again. Control your goddamn thoughts. _

I'm still not sleepy, so I try to remember other parts of the carnival—hopefully parts that won't make me think of fucking Mike Newton again. I can't believe I considered him a friend at one point; the fact that he came clean with Bella while Tanya was willing to take the secret to her grave helps marginally, but I still don't think I'll ever be friendly with him again. _You're doing it again. _"Damn it!" I mutter. Bella stirs again, so I lay still, and once again, she doesn't wake. I know that I can't press my luck much further, though. If I continue on that train of thought, I will wake her, and that's the last thing I want.

_Carnival, carnival… _I think, trying to come up with a more pleasant memory. Mrs. Stanley's face flashes in my mind's eye, and I smile at the memory of Bella practically ripping her a new one. That was awesome. _Don't you want to know when the baby's due? _Bella asked. _When _we_ decide we're ready. _Mrs. Stanley's eyes practically popped out of her head, and it was all I could do to contain my laughter. Bella totally owned that conversation—confrontation was more like it—and I loved seeing it. The way she totally let the gossip-monger have it—and the way Mrs. Stanley turned fire-engine red—was priceless. I was barely able to contain my laughter, and when we were a safe distance from the Chamber of Commerce booth, I let loose. I was instantly sobered when Bella apologized, stating that she wasn't 'plotting to have my children,' or whatever she'd said, because I realized that was exactly what _I'd _been doing earlier in the evening. Well, imagining rather than plotting, and having children _with_ her, rather than actually _having _said children. That would take a medical miracle, and frankly, after hearing my mother's horror stories about Emmett's birth ("Fifty-three hours of hard labor, and I _still _ended up with a c-section at the end. Never again. You and your sister were both scheduled surgeries."), I wasn't too keen to try my hand at childbirth. Sometimes it paid to be a guy. _Would a normal, twenty-two year old guy be imagining having kids with his girlfriend of six hours, though? _I couldn't keep the thought from taking hold, but honestly, this one wasn't aggravating. Nothing about me—or my situation with Bella—was normal. I wasn't going to push her into anything, of course, but I wasn't going to be ashamed of my desires either. Plus, just because at this point in our (very new) relationship I imagined spending my life with her, that didn't mean things would always be that way. Everyone's like that in a new relationship. It's going to be important to take things slow, build on what we have, establish some common goals, and accomplish them together. _That's _more like it… accomplish goals together. It doesn't matter what the goals are, necessarily, just that Bella and I work together to make sure we're both happy in our lives. Inside and outside of our relationship.

Though I still don't feel tired, I allow my eyes to close, and the next thing I know, my cell phone alarm is beeping on the table next to me. My arms are still wrapped around Bella, one hand inside her strappy little tank top. Neither of us moved all night long. I smile in her hair, ignoring the beeping for as long as I can.

"Are you going to turn that off?" Bella mumbles sleepily.

"I'm sorry, beautiful," I apologize. "I didn't realize you were awake yet."

"I'm not."

I chuckle then reluctantly release her to roll over and turn off the alarm. I've never been one to snooze my alarm clock, and I know I won't be able to sleep any more at this point; though I'd love nothing more than to stay in bed, holding her for several more hours (awake or asleep, it doesn't matter), I have a picnic to prepare. I dress quickly and quietly—I don't need to shower now, since I just did right before bed last night—and head into the kitchen.

By the time Bella emerges from the bedroom forty-five minutes later, I've found the cooler my parents keep here in the cottage and filled it with bread, peanut butter, cold cuts, lettuce leaves, tomato slices, condiments, soda cans, and ice packs to keep everything fresh. I've filled a paper sack with a blanket to spread over the grass once we get there and the utensils we'll need, as well as a bag of chips. The meal will be simple, but it'll get the job done; the important thing will be that we're there together. An actual picnic basket would be nice—more romantic—but there isn't one here, and honestly, the cooler is more practical anyway.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," I say, smiling at her.

"Morning," she replies, still sounding tired but looking happy, almost as if she can't believe she's here. She hasn't changed out of her pajamas yet, and I must admit—even if only to myself—I rather like that look. She eyes the cooler and bag on the breakfast bar, and her face lights up. "That's right! It's picnic day today!" She looks like a child who's woken up sleepy and cranky only to be reminded that it's Christmas morning.

"Yes, it is." If I wasn't already smiling, I wouldn't be able to keep a grin off my face at her utter delight at the realization of what we're doing today. As it is, my smile stretches.

"Can we go now?" The excitement in her voice is palpable.

"Don't you want some breakfast first?"

"Nope. Just a cup of tea."

I chuckle at her exuberance. The way she went from barely awake to giddy in approximately two-point-nine seconds makes me think she probably doesn't need caffeine in any form, even the low quantity of it in tea, but at the same time, I'm not going to deny her. "Why don't you go shower and change, and I'll make some for you?" I suggest.

Instead of heading back toward the bedroom where her duffel bag is, she comes over, stopping directly in front of me and wrapping her arms around my neck. She presses her lips against mine in some strange combination of firm and soft, whispers, "Good morning," and is gone again before I've really had time to process what just happened.

I stand there for a moment, dazed, and only snap out of it when I hear the noise of the water shooting out of the showerhead in the bathroom. I blink hard and move over to the opposite side of the kitchen; my mom keeps two coffee pots here: one for coffee and one for heating water to make tea and other non-coffee beverages. I fill up the non-coffee one and turn it on.

I watch the water drip into the pot, and my mind wanders. I wonder what Bella's reaction to 'my place' will be. Will she love it? Hate it? Think I'm a freak for being so fascinated by the stone ruins? Or wonder about them along with me?

She comes out at pretty much the same time the coffee pot clicks off—my mother insisted on the ones with the safety auto-off, 'just in case'—and she looks absolutely stunning. I wonder how someone can make jeans and a blouse look so good, but she does. I pour her a mug of hot water and find my mom's stash of tea bags. There are nearly a dozen to choose from, and it takes Bella a moment to make her selection. When she does, it's a simple English Breakfast blend. I smirk at her. "All that time to decide, and you pick a plain one?"

"I've always been afraid to try the flavored ones, but I thought I might this time. In the end, I just couldn't commit, though."

We laugh together at her defense.

She finishes the mug off, savoring every drop, and as I watch her, I'm honestly a little jealous of the liquid in her mouth. It's absurd, but true. _I _want to be there, in her mouth. So, as soon as she sets the cup down, I'm there, kissing her again. I just can't help myself.

We pull apart reluctantly—at least it's reluctant on my end, and it seems to be on hers, too. "Do you want another cup before we go?" I ask.

"No, I'm good. I'm kind of anxious to get going, actually." Her eyes twinkle with anticipation.

"Let's go then," I reply, hoisting the bag in my left arm, grabbing the cooler with that hand, and holding Bella's hand in my right. I release my hold on her just long enough to make sure the door to the cottage is locked—even though it's in the middle of the woods, my mother would have a conniption if she found out I left it vulnerable—and lead her to the car. I place the picnic supplies in the back seat and open Bella's door for her. Only after she's comfortably situated do I make my way to the driver's side.

The ride is spent in silence. It's a loaded silence, yet not at all awkward. I drive past my parents' house and turn onto a small road, not much bigger than a trail, but big enough to handle a car, about a mile past their driveway. I haven't driven this road at all in years and only rarely before then; usually I walked out here from my parents' backyard. Just as I remember, the road-slash-trail ends in a small clearing. This isn't our destination, but it's as far as we can go in the car. I slide the gear shift into park and get out.

"What is this place?" Bella asks.

"The end of the road," I reply, "but this isn't where we're stopping."

"O… kay," she says slowly, obviously confused.

I open her door again and help her out, then grab the picnic items.

"Don't worry, it's not much farther," I assure her.

Like before, I carry the cooler and sack together in one arm and hold onto Bella with the other. We walk in comfortable silence, focusing on the surrounding areas rather than on idle chitchat. We're deep enough in the forest that there are no sounds threatening our serenity, and the quiet is welcome. There's just enough sunlight filtering down through the boughs to light our way as we dodge trees—there's no trail here.

It's almost half an hour before either of us speak again. "I thought you said it wasn't much farther," Bella says.

"Are you getting tired?"

"No, not really. It's just, when I hear 'not much farther,' I don't think another mile of walking, that's all."

"Sorry," I reply. "We really are almost there now, though."

As if on cue, the trees thin, and another minute after that, they clear altogether. Just like I remembered it, the field is wide open, a clearing half the size of a football field in the middle of the grove, with the old stone ruins dead center. There really isn't anything phenomenal about the field—there are no wildflowers or anything—simply an open, grassy area with the crumbling stones.

"Oh, my," Bella says, and I can't read her tone. All the questions I had from the cottage come crashing back over me. I look down at her and instantly relax; she looks as stunned as I was the first time I found this place. Her eyes are on the stones about fifty yards away. "What is that?" Her voice is barely above a whisper.

"The reason I come here," I tell her. "I used to come out here and just stare at that for hours at a time, thinking. I always wondered what it used to be, why it was never maintained, but most of all, how the stones got out here in the first place. I mean, you walked with me just now; there's no road or even footpath leading out here. And yet, there obviously used to be a building here. It's a conundrum that I've always puzzled over."

Even as I speak, my thoughts are different from my words. For the first time, I see something else in the old stone foundation. I see a reflection of my life. Or maybe just what my life could have looked like—perhaps even _would _have. As much as I hate what Tanya did—how she plotted against Bella, how she trapped me—I know I would have been faithful to her, and I would have taken those marriage vows seriously. Divorce would not have been an option—not on my end, anyway. She would have torn me down, just as surely as the elements, countless summers and winters, tore down whatever this building used to be, and I would have ended up as broken as the foundation I'm gazing at now. Until this very moment, I never fully realized how unhappy I was with Tanya. Even the thoughts and misgivings I had on what would have been our wedding day could be explained away as cold feet; every guy gets them, right? No matter what Emmett said, I honestly didn't _know_ that I wasn't happy. And for as vocal as my family is now about how happy they are I didn't marry her, none of them ever said anything during the entire four years I was with her. I don't blame them for that, but at the same time, it would've been nice to know their thoughts back then. I was suave and debonair with Tanya because that's what she expected from me, but I wonder now how much of that was _me _and how much was my interpretation of what Tanya wanted. I may have been weak when I was eighteen, but I know that had I realized just how miserable I was with Tanya—really _known _for sure—I wouldn't have stayed with her. Unfortunately, it took something as drastic as an interrupted wedding for me to discover it.

As I stare at the stone ruins, I see something furry poking its head out of what used to be a window; a squirrel scampers up and over the rock, across the field from us, and up a nearby tree. In that, too, I see myself. That's a more recent version of me, though. The squirrel, the life in the midst of the ruins, _that's _what happened to me when Bella answered Reverend Weber's call of _speak now or forever hold your peace. _

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bella murmurs, and I vaguely recognize the phrase as one I've asked her more than once in the past twenty-four hours.

"You saved me," I whisper. "I would have become that, and _you _prevented it from happening." My gaze never leaves the destroyed foundation before me.

Bella doesn't respond, and I'm too lost in my own thoughts to tear my eyes away from the sight before me. She simply stands there, with her arm wrapped around mine, and lets me percolate. A moment later, I finally pull my eyes away from the stone foundation that now has a fresh meaning to me and look down at Bella. She's looking back at me, and I don't know if she's been watching me the entire time or if she's just recently adjusted her gaze. "Thank you." My voice is stronger now, but the sentiment, the raw emotion, is still there.

"You really feel that way? That I saved you?"

"Yes."

We just stare at each other for a moment, having a sort of silent conversation, and it's a much deeper connection than I've ever felt with anyone else in my life. I never thought that saying nothing could accomplish as much—perhaps more—than having a verbal conversation. But gazing into the depths of Bella's chocolate eyes, I know that it can now.

"I really don't know how to respond to that," she says after a moment.

"That's okay. There's really no response necessary," I reply, smiling at her. I feel lighter somehow, with this realization. "Come on." I tug her hand, leading her around to the other side of the ruins where the sun is shining on the grass. Setting everything down, I open up the grocery sack and pull out the blanket. When it's spread out over the grass, we settle ourselves on top of it and sit quietly for several moments.

"So," Bella begins, "I have something I've been thinking about for several days now, and I want to talk to you about it before I make a final decision."

I'm puzzled but curious. "Okay, shoot."

"Well, I applied to Dartmouth back in high school and got accepted, but…" She trails off, seeming to search for the words. "Er, something came up, so I ended up going to the state school in Florida. With the way things have transpired in the past month, there's not a single part of me that wants to go back there, though. I mean, I don't hold a grudge against Mike, but that doesn't mean I really want to see him again, you know?"

I nod. I know exactly how she feels; I feel the same way about Newton.

"My dad kept my Dartmouth acceptance letter, and when I told him I couldn't go back to Florida, he pulled it out. I thought it was a long shot, the offer still standing after three and a half years, but I had to find out. So I called the admissions office a few days ago and was told that even though acceptances essentially expire once term starts and you're not enrolled, they'd take a look at my record. So I left it at that and figured I'd probably never hear from them again."

"Wait, wait, wait," I interrupt. "You got in to Dartmouth?" I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around this piece of information. How different would things have turned out if she'd gone to the same school as me this whole time? Would we have gotten the truth earlier?

"Yeah, I did. Anyway, they called me back yesterday morning." She lets this tidbit hang in the air for a moment, and I'm anxious to hear what she's about to say. "They told me that they looked at my transcript from Florida State and were impressed. But they don't do mid-year transfers."

"Ugh, of course not," I mutter. For a few glorious seconds, I'd actually gotten my hopes up that she might be able to join me at Dartmouth at the end of spring break.

"But," she says, and my eyes snap back up. _But? There's a but? _"The lady in the admitting office told me that if I commit to enrolling in the Master's program, she'd make an exception for me."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I was planning to get a Master's anyway, so I may as well do it now instead of in a few years."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. I've been specifically avoiding thinking about what will happen at the end of this week when I go back to New Hampshire. Dealing with Tanya on my own isn't something I'm excited about, but I would've done it. My education is important to me, which is actually part of why the wedding was scheduled over Spring Break instead of during the summer; I've been attending classes year-round to finish my Bachelor's early—which I did, at the equivalent of the end of my junior year. I've been working on my own Master's degree since then and am halfway through now. One more year of year round classes, and I'll be done with my education. That commitment to education is the reason I'd resigned myself to dealing with Tanya again. But now… "So you're starting at Dartmouth? How soon?"

"Actually, the lady, Mrs. Johnson, has been really helpful. She's worked hard to get my records transferred from Florida and found me a dorm room and everything. I get to go there as soon as Spring Break is over." Bella sounds as excited as I feel.

She'll be coming with me to New Hampshire this weekend. I won't have to say good-bye to her. Before a conscious decision is even made, I'm pressing my mouth to Bella's, lowering her to the ground—even in my haste, being careful not to bang her head against the hard ground. Our lips move together, perfectly in unison, but it doesn't take long before that's not enough. Bella nips at my bottom lip with her teeth then swipes her tongue over the spot. I'm as anxious for more as she seems to be, so I open my mouth to her, and our tongues engage in an intimate dance. Supporting myself on one forearm, I slide my fingers into the silky hair at the nape of her neck. She shifts underneath me, lifting her hips minutely, and I groan. I know she's not ready for more, and I really am okay with that—everything I said last night is true; I don't want our first time to be rushed and something that we both look back on with regret. Of course, that doesn't mean a little grinding is out of the question. I rub my denim-clad erection over Bella's jeans; it's enough to relieve a bit of the pressure I'm feeling, and I moan again.

Remembering what she said last night about my 'magical tongue,' I trail my mouth down her neck, over her right shoulder, and down her clavicle, nipping and licking the entire way. Knowing just how far I can press my limits with her based on our encounter last night, I'm more confident this time when I slip my hand up her blouse. There are no questions or apologies necessary this time. I'm greeted with the rough feel of lace, and her nipple pressing firmly against the fabric.

"Oh, God," she moans, which spurs me on further.

Kneading her breast in one hand, I continue to kiss and lick Bella's neck, working my way back up and finally ending just below her ear. Her hips buck up when I reach that spot, and I remember that she had a similar reaction to that place last night; I file it away for future reference. I nip the site once more and then sit up, straddling her hips. She gasps at the lost contact, and I smile to myself; she's exactly where I want her.

I slowly withdraw my hand from inside her blouse, and she instantly complains. "What are you—"

"Sh," I whisper, placing one finger over her lips. I let my hands trail down over her flat stomach, teasing each button on the blouse along the way. When I reach the bottom, I slowly let my fingers move back up, unbuttoning her top on this trip. Once my hands are at the hollow of her throat and her shirt is unbuttoned, yet still closed, I lean down, placing a kiss right at the V where the two halves of the shirt overlap. Sitting up again, I carefully slide the fabric open, revealing Bella's chest to me. I worry for about a second and a half that I've gone too far, that seeing her will be too much, worse somehow than having had my mouth on her nipples before. She doesn't flinch—or even blush—though. Her brown eyes hold my green ones captive for a moment, until I unwillingly break the gaze to admire her pink-lace-covered breasts. "Perfect." My voice is barely audible.

My hands, which are still resting on the fabric of her top, near her shoulders, seek out the pink fabric of her bra. As nice as the lacy scrap is, I'm more interested in what's underneath. I slide my hands under her, and she understands immediately what I'm after; she lifts her back up just enough to allow me access to the bra clasps. She slips her arms out of the shirt sleeves while I easily unfasten the clasps of her bra, pulling the lace away. If I thought she was gorgeous before, it's nothing to the bare flesh before me now. My erection grows painfully harder beneath the confines of my jeans, but I ignore it the best I can. Seeing her lying here on the blanket in my special place, topless for me, with the spring sun beating down on her and casting a glow over her porcelain skin, I know I'm in my own personal heaven.

I roll her left nipple between my fingers, delighting in the way it pebbles at my touch. Leaning down, I take the right one in my mouth and swirl my tongue around it. She groans and wiggles her denim-covered hips again, searching for friction. I revel in the feel of her shifting and grinding against me, loving every minute of it. I find it impossible to keep still, so I return her movements, rubbing against her until we're both panting.

Swiftly, I switch the positions of my mouth and hands, taking her right nipple into my mouth and flicking my tongue over the stiff peak.

Her grinding suddenly becomes too much, and I know that our choices are either to stop or take this further. I also know that we're not ready to move forward in this way just yet, no matter how much I want to.

Pulling my mouth away from her breast, I sit up again, holding her hips still with my knees. "Bella. Bella, we have to stop," I pant.

She looks bewildered, but the expression on my face explains everything to her. "Right. Of course," she replies, also panting, "but, my God, if that's even close to what I have to look forward to later—"

"Bella," I warn, reminding her with just her name what I told her yesterday. _Saying things like that won't help me behave myself. _

"Sorry."

I climb off of her, and, needing something to distract me from the sight of her bare breasts in the sunlight—she's redressing now, which is both good and bad—I open the cooler. "I hope sandwiches are okay," I tell her, pulling out the bread and condiments.

"Sandwiches are great. We'll have plenty of time for more elaborate meals _in New Hampshire!_" She squeals the last three words, her tone rivaling Alice, and they're a reminder of why the making out started in the first place.

"Yes. Yes, we will have time for more elaborate meals in New Hampshire." As I repeat her words back to her, the glee she's exhibiting builds up in me, too. I chance a peek over my shoulder, confirming that she's gotten her shirt back on. With that temptation removed, I turn back to her fully and press my mouth to hers once more. "I've never looked forward to going back to school more than I do now, knowing you'll be there with me." A small part of me wonders how Tanya will react, but then I decide that I don't give a damn. I've been happier in the past week than I was at any point in the past four years, and I'm not about to let my ex ruin it.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: We're going to Dartmouth! Any theories on what will transpire there? You know things are really going to heat up.**

_**'Speak Now'**_** has been nominated for two Tomato Soup Awards: Hershey Kiss for best kiss in Chapter 11 and the Strawberry Jam Award for Best Bella. Thank you so much to whoever nom'd us! Sarita's stories, **_**'Broken Windows' **_**and **_**'I Want It Painted Black' **_**have been nom'd for a few awards each, and Sarita has been nom'd for Top Chef Award. Thank you, thank you! I believe voting starts on September 6th.**

**Don't forget to check out Wendy's solo story, **_**'Music of the Heart.'**_** I'm her beta, so I have inside information... things will be heating up soon.**

**Wendy would like to recommend a story this week by Arteis Leaeana called **_**'Birthdays, Bars and Bathrooms.'**_** Check it out! H ****t t p : / /www . Fanfiction . net/s/7004130/1/Birthdays_Bars_Bathrooms Be sure to leave the author some love, and tell her where you found out about the story!  
**

**As always, reviewers will receive a different special teaser not posted on teaser sites or our blogs. Thank you for reading!**

***If you send in an anonymous review or have PMs disabled, we have no way of sending you teasers, sorry.**

**Follow us on Twitter! (at) SaritaDreaming (at) wmr1601**


	15. Chapter 13 Expect the Unexpected

**A/N: Hello again, awesome readers! We've been loving all your terrific reviews and opinions. We're getting closer to Dartmouth, Tanya, and all the fuckery that is sure to commence.**

**As always, thanks to Caz, Keye and Sandy, our prereaders and friends, for all their valuable feedback and suggestions. Huge thanks to our beta, Jess (jkane180), for wielding that Sparkly Red Pen of hers—especially since Wendy and I both have a tendency to mix a little past in with our present. *cough***

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**Chapter 13**

**~Expect the Unexpected~**

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"_**Iceberg, right ahead!" ~ Titanic**_

**~*Bella*~**

As I kneel on the blanket, breathing hard, I watch Edward lean down to get something out of the cooler. Taking in the sight of his cute ass in those tight, faded jeans does nothing to slow my breathing—I have the urge to reach out and grab a handful. Biting my lip, I button my top with shaking fingers; I'm not sure where my bra ended up in all the excitement, and my main concern is covering up right now.

Edward turns slowly, glancing back at me cautiously. Our eyes meet as he faces me fully, and he grips my arms, pulling me in close to brush his lips over mine. "I've never looked forward to going back to school more than I do now, knowing you'll be there with me," he murmurs.

"Yeah? You sure you want me to come to Dartmouth? I don't want to cramp your style," I answer playfully.

Edward looks down at me with disbelief written on his face. He's obviously taking my words far more seriously than I meant them. "Bella, of course I want you to come to Dartmouth! Do you have any idea how conflicted I was about leaving you? I – I couldn't even _talk_ about it with you, and..."

My eyes widen. "Edward..." I put my fingers over his lips "...slow down. I was just messing with you. I figured you'd be excited about me going to Dartmouth. Just for the record, I was avoiding discussing the subject, too. I only found out about my acceptance yesterday, and I needed time to process it... let it roll around in my mind."

Edward's face relaxes, and he reaches behind him to make me a sandwich. "Is ham and Swiss okay with you?"

"Mm-mm, my fave."

Edward busies himself putting it together, checking to see if I want mayo or mustard. I ask for half and half—I like mustard on one side and mayo on the other. Edward looks at me strangely.

"What? It's delicious that way!" I defend.

"That sounds disgusting." Edward wrinkles his nose, and it's one of the cutest things I've ever seen on a guy.

"Like pink cotton candy?" I taunt with a barely concealed smile.

Edward sighs. "Okay, tell you what... I'll try a bite of yours."

"Deal. Don't make your sandwich until you taste mine, though, because you're going to love it."

Five minutes later, there are two ham and Swiss sandwiches with mustard _and_ mayo—one of them with two huge bites missing—on paper plates next to Edward.

"Um, you totally know that half-eaten one is yours, right?" I ask with raised eyebrows. Edward liked it so much, he took a second huge bite, effectively having consumed a third of the sandwich.

"But you told me to sample yours." Edward grins at me, his eyes sparkling.

"Sample, as in a small bite. You practically swallowed half of my sandwich, you hog!"

Still laughing, Edward hands me the unbitten sandwich with a wink. _God, I love when he winks. Hell, I love when he does anything. I'm in so much trouble here._

Taking the sandwich, I realize I'm pretty damn hungry, so I take a big bite. It's delicious, and I munch on it happily while Edward grabs some napkins and opens a bag of chips.

My eyes roam our beautiful surroundings as we eat in companionable silence. I'm so glad Edward brought me here; it's like a respite from the outside world. In here, you'd never know that civilization continues on just a few miles away, that serious problems exist, that there are people out there waiting to destroy you. In here, it's peaceful and surreal, like a place out of time. Our blanket lies on the ground beside the ruins, and I glance over at the crumbling structure curiously. It's made of stone and mortar, and is obviously very old. In the center, grass and weeds sprout up in places around the packed dirt. Next to us, the wall is only about waist high, but on the opposite side, it appears to be about eight to ten feet. There's a window in the far wall—all the glass is long gone, but some of the wood that separated the panes remains—and the leaves of a tree branch curl in through it, seeking the sun. As Edward mentioned earlier, there is no obvious path to this little hideaway, and I, too, wonder how and why this was built out in the middle of nowhere.

This leads my thoughts to focus on what Edward said earlier—that I saved him from becoming like the decaying structure. He didn't elaborate, but the insinuation was that his life would eventually have fallen to ruin if he married Tanya. I think about the past four years of my own life and how I went through them in a veritable fog. I blamed it on being busy with school and work, but the truth is... I didn't want to face how empty my life was. How many people go through life just settling for something less than what they truly want? The thought saddens me, and I realize I can't judge Edward for his reactions to the situation when I didn't do much better. Granted, I wasn't marrying Mike, but everyone reacts to circumstances differently, and it would be wrong of me to condemn him for what he did to cope. At least we're on the right track now.

I hear a twittering sound and look up at the wall closest to us to see a tiny blue bird watching us curiously. The bird cocks its head, making a 'cheep, cheep' sound. I'm surprised because it doesn't look like many people come out here, and the bird appears to be unafraid. I toss a piece of crust from my sandwich over by the base of the wall, and the bird flutters its wings, letting itself gracefully down to the ground, where it pecks at the piece of bread until it's broken into two smaller pieces. The bird takes its time eating the treat, and then I realize something—the grass is fairly short here. The grass should be waist high out here, but it's only about two inches long.

As I have my realization, the bird looks up at me and squawks loudly, flapping its little wings and taking a few steps toward me. I toss another piece of bread to the bird, who grabs at it.

Turning to Edward, I find him staring at me intensely. "What?" I ask self-consciously.

"You're fascinating to watch, Bella. So much goes on behind those eyes."

"You've been watching me?"

"Yeah." He's not embarrassed or apologetic. "I'm learning your face, your expressions. Just now, you seemed to be deep in thought, but then something sparked in your eyes—as if you made some kind of realization."

I look back at Edward with surprise; he really is rather observant. "I did. Have you noticed that the grass isn't long here? A lot of the way out, we were tromping through two foot high weeds and grass, but here... it's almost as if someone's been tending it."

Edward gazes around, his brow furrowing as he takes it all in. "You're right, Bella. I never realized that, but it's always been just like this as long as I can remember. But look... right outside of the perimeter of this field, the grass is high again." Edward points where the trees edge the field.

We return to eating, both contemplating our observations. I hear the _snap!_ and hiss of a can opening beside me, and Edward asks what I prefer to drink. I accept a can of Pepsi and take a long swig, the carbonation causing my eyes to water slightly.

After we've finished eating and packed everything back up, we lie down beside one another on the blanket, looking up at the sky. Fluffy white clouds float slowly across pale blue, and the sun filtering through the leaves throws a dappled pattern over us. Edward's fingers entwine with mine, and a feeling of deep contentment fills me. My chest loosens, and the cool air fills my lungs, bringing me a sense of well-being that I haven't experienced in a long time. I'm happy just to be here beside Edward, and the silence is a comfortable one.

"Mickey Mouse," he murmurs after a while.

"What?"

"Right up there..." Edward points "...to the left. That cloud looks like Mickey Mouse."

I squint up at it for about twenty seconds until I can see the shape. "Oh, yeah." Glancing to the right, I see an elephant's head, and I giggle, thinking of the pink elephant Edward won for me at the fair.

"What?"

"Look right... there." I point. "An elephant!"

"No, don't see it."

"It's right there!" I lean up, pointing again.

"Nope."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Turning my head toward Edward, I find him facing my way, staring at me. My breath catches, and I look into his eyes for a moment before reaching out to stroke his cheek. "You weren't even looking up at the clouds, Edward! How can you expect to see the elephant?"

"I don't care about the patterns in the clouds. I'm far more fascinated by the things I see in you," he says softly, rolling his body until his lips are hovering close to mine. "You're the most beautiful, fascinating creature I've ever seen, Bella Swan. I missed so much time with you, so if I spend a lot of my life staring at you and cherishing every moment I've been gifted, don't be surprised."

His words cause my eyes to prick with tears. _I love you, Edward Cullen._ Oh, how I want to say the words out loud, but I'm afraid to, so instead, I lean up and press my lips to his.

Edward's large hand cradles my head, and he places soft, lingering kisses on my mouth. Small, sweet kisses are peppered along my jaw and down the side of my neck. His tongue swirls in the hollow at the base of my throat, and a breathless moan escapes. "Edward..."

More kisses trail back up the side of my neck until he's sucking on the tender spot just beneath my ear. My thighs squeeze together reflexively, and I bite back another moan. The vibration of my cell in my pocket along with Charlie's ringtone jolts me back to reality... _'Bad boys, bad boys, what'cha gonna do? What'cha gonna do when they come for you?'_

Edward guffaws, his hand slipping and nearly allowing my head to drop back to the ground. "Is that the Chief's ringtone?"

"Yeah..." I sit up quickly, figuring I better answer it. "Hey, Dad!"

"Bells. How was your date last night?"

"It was great! We went to the fair."

"Yes, so I heard."

Oh, shit. Mrs. Stanley must have talked. "Listen, Dad, I can explain..." But I'm interrupted by the sound of my father's hearty laughter. "Um..." I hold the phone out from my ear, so Edward can hear Charlie's fit of laughter.

"Pete told me about your bet with Edward... that he took a swim... ah, ha, ha, ha... in the dunk... tank!" Charlie is breathless with laughter now.

I giggle as Edward narrows his eyes at the phone; apparently, he doesn't find my father's amusement at his expense all that funny. My dad is a rather serious man, so I'm enjoying this side of him immensely. "Sorry," I mouth to Edward.

Edward waves me off with a crooked grin and leans back on the blanket with his hands behind his head.

"So, Dad... is that why you called?"

"No, no. Where are you anyway?"

"Edward took me on a picnic in the woods behind his parents' house."

"Ah. I went fishing this morning, and when I got home, there was a notice on the door. You have a registered letter from Dartmouth, and since nobody was home, they're holding it down at the post office. I thought you might want to pick it up on your way back into town."

"Oh, yeah! Thanks, Dad! It must be my dorm assignment and class schedule. So how was your date with Sue?"

"Good. It was good. Okay, well, I'll let you get back to your picnic. I'll see you later?"

"See you when I see you. Bye, Dad." I hang up before he can protest.

"Everything all right?" Edward asks.

"Oh, yeah. He just wanted to let me know I have a registered letter waiting at the post office. It must be my stuff from Dartmouth. You think we can swing into town to pick it up when we leave here?"

"Absolutely. Are you ready to go, or did you want to stay a while longer?"

"I think I'm ready. But I need a promise from you." I turn to look down at Edward.

"Sure. What is it?" His concerned eyes meet mine, and it saddens me that we still expect the worst, that casually asking for a promise is high on the anxiety scale.

Sweeping a finger across his lips then up to smooth the worry line between his eyes, I whisper, "Promise me you'll bring me here again. I know it's your special place, but it's so... beyond words."

"It can be _our_ place now, Bella." He sits up, placing a kiss in my palm. "Now that I've been here with you, it would be so empty without you."

Gathering up the remains of our picnic, Edward folds the blanket and tucks everything under one arm. We hold hands on the trek back to the car. A feeling of warmth has bloomed in my chest over the course of the afternoon, and my body is virtually singing with happiness. I'm holding the hand of the man I love—even if I don't have the guts to tell him so yet—and I'll be heading to Dartmouth with him when Spring Break is over. We're being given a second chance at love, which is something not many people are granted. Despite all the awful things we had to go through to get here, I'm just so damn grateful for the chance. Every so often, Edward glances over at me and smiles, and it's as if he knows what I'm thinking.

On the drive into town, Edward starts talking more about what's ahead.

"Bella, we only have three days left before we leave for Dartmouth." He picks up our joined hands, placing a kiss on mine. "We should call the airline and see if we can get a flight together."

"Oh, my God! I haven't even thought about that! I was so excited that I got in, it never even occurred to me to think about how I was getting there."

"Don't worry. I'll call the airline later and see if we can get seats together. Um, there is one thing we should discuss..." Edward's tone is apologetic, and I know it must be related to Tanya.

"Something about Tanya?"

"Well, yeah. We've been living together in an off-campus apartment for the past few years..."

"Oh. So what do you plan to do?" Realistically, I know that Edward's been sleeping with Tanya—they were engaged for heaven's sake—but to think of their domestic life makes my stomach roll. They probably studied together, cooked meals together... maybe she rubbed his shoulders after a particularly rough day. She slept in the bed beside him _every night. _

"Well, the lease is in my name, but if she gives me a problem, I'll just have it changed to her name, and I'll find a new place. I fully expect her to try something, but I want you to know that she won't get anywhere with me. I may have spent the last four years being a patsy, but that's over with."

"So you think she's going to fight you?"

"Knowing Tanya? Yeah. I'm not under any illusions that Tanya will make this easy for us, Bella, but I want you to know how committed I am. I'll do whatever is necessary to make sure nobody ever comes between us again."

"I believe you, Edward. I have faith in us."

"You have no idea what it means to me to hear you say that." Edward squeezes my hand tighter, and his jaw ticks, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

"So... how far away from the dorms is your apartment?" I ask, feigning an innocent tone.

Edward looks at me askance, the corner of his lip pulling up. "About ten minutes."

"Good. We'll get to see a lot of each other then?"

"Try and keep me away. Well, men aren't allowed in the dorm rooms, so I'll have to drag you off to my lair... often."

"Are you propositioning me, Mr. Cullen?" I ask in mock affront.

"Most definitely, Miss Swan. I'll take advantage of any moment I can get with you. If I thought you'd say yes..." Edward's words drift off, and he shakes his head.

"What?"

"Nothing. It wasn't appropriate."

"You have to tell me now!" I whine.

Edward sighs, his jaw ticking again. "I was going to say that if I thought you'd say yes... I'd ask you to stay with me. Every night."

"Oh..." My heart soars at his words, and there's nothing I'd love more. My hormones, my heart, and my desire all say _hell, yes!_ But the practical side of me warns that it could be a disaster, that it would be safer for my heart to wait. "I'm flattered, Edward."

"But it's not what you want." His voice drips with disappointment.

"That's not true. I _do_ want that, very much, but... I can't. Not yet. My heart never wants to be away from you, but the logical part of me knows it's too soon."

"I understand. Bella, I'm going to give you a key to my place—just as soon as I change the locks—and you're always welcome there anytime of the day or night. I want you to think of it as your home away from home, okay?"

"Are you sure?" I ask as excitement builds inside me.

"Very sure."

"I accept then. Thank you, Edward."

We arrive in town, and Edward pulls up in front of the post office. Telling him I'll be right back, I hop out of the car and enter the small storefront. The clerk asks if I have the slip that was left at the house, and I realize I never stopped to get it. With a look of annoyance, the man tells me he'll try to find the letter and shuffles off into the back. It's not like this is the big city! How many registered letters are waiting for the residents of Forks today?

Drumming my fingers on the counter, I wait for the clerk to return. My mind drifts over all the things I need to do to get ready to leave for Dartmouth in three days. I'm so thankful that even though Charlie's been giving Edward a hard time, he's one hundred percent behind me going to New Hampshire. If it wasn't for Charlie, I probably wouldn't have had the guts to contact the school in the first place. A tender smile slips over my face as I think about my gruff father and all his antics. I know he only wants what's best for me, and he's done what he can to be both a mother and father during some of the most difficult days of my life.

The scuff of shoes on the concrete floor rouses me from my thoughts, and the clerk holds up a thick envelope with a smile. "Here it is, Miss. Just show me your ID and sign right here."

Digging out my wallet, I show him my license and sign the slip, thanking him for taking the time to find my letter, which I slide into my purse. Pushing the door open, I find Edward's car empty and glance around to see where he is. My attention is drawn by raised voices, and I immediately recognize one of them as Edward's.

Rushing up the sidewalk, my stomach drops when I see Edward in front of 'Newton's Outfitters' with someone shoved up against the wall. Edward is so tall his body eclipses whoever he's confronting, but as I draw closer, my heart pounds when I realize who it is.

"You sick fuck! You thought it was okay to take advantage of her? You looked yourself in the mirror every fucking day, knowing she didn't really want you? That you took her away from me?"

"Edward, I'm sorry, man. I –"

"_Sorry?_ You think you can just say sorry and everything's fine? You were my friend! Maybe Bella can forgive you, but I can't. I'll never forgive you."

"Edward, listen to me..."

"NO!" Edward roars. And then he draws back and punches Mike in the face over and over, each one punctuating his words. "You... never... deserved... to... touch... her!"

"Oh, my God! Edward!" I yell out, running as fast as my legs will carry me. "Stop it, Edward!"

By the time I get to them, there are two men holding Edward back, but he continues struggling to get free. Mike slips to the ground in a heap, blood trickling from his nose and mouth, one eye already beginning to swell.

I clap a hand over my mouth, and I don't know what to do or say. My mind is whirling. I'm shocked that Edward would attack Mike this way, but another part of me knows he had it coming. Two police officers jog up to us, and one immediately grabs Edward from the two men, pushing him face down to the sidewalk and cuffing him. I don't recognize either of the policemen—they're both fairly young and must have been hired sometime during the four years I've been away from Forks.

"No!" I cry out. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, my eyes move between Edward lying face down with a cop straddling his back and Mike sitting slumped over, bleeding. How did such a beautiful day go so wrong?

"Sorry, Bella..." Mike whispers.

"You should be arresting him!" Edward yells out. "He fucking drugged her!"

"Be quiet, sir, unless you want to add resisting arrest to the charges!" the officer barks at Edward, pressing harder between his shoulder blades.

"Charges?" I whisper as the edges of my vision start to dim.

"Aw, shit! She's going down!" another voice closer to me yells out.

_Who's going down?_

"Bella!" Edward's voice is terrified.

_Oh, it's me. I'm going..._ lights out.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

Life is good as I sit in the car, waiting for Bella to pick up her registered letter. I've just had a great afternoon with my girlfriend, picnicking at the ruins—which, I note with satisfaction, she didn't make fun of or think less of me for being fascinated by. Now, she's picking up her official paperwork from Dartmouth, where we'll be going _together _at the end of the week. _Yes, life is good._

A flash of sunlight glinting off the glass doors of the shop across the street catches my attention. The realization of which store faces the post office comes hard and fast: 'Newton's Outfitters.' My fingers grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white at the mere thought of Mike Newton. _Thank God he's back in Florida, _I think. Secure in that knowledge, I chance a look over at the store and am surprised out of my mind to see him slinking out the door like a lost puppy.

Before I've made a conscious decision, I'm out of the car, across the street, and trapping Mike against the brick wall of the building. He's a good five inches shorter than me, which I use to my advantage. "You have some fucking nerve showing your face here," I snarl, "after what you did to Bella."

"What? No! I told the truth!" His voice is practically a whimper, and for some reason, that just pisses me off even more.

I scoff. "Only after four goddamn years of lies."

"Edward, no, man. It's not like that…" He trails off, his voice still feeble.

His use of familiarities is maddening. Does he actually think we'll still be friends after all of this? "Then what was it like?" It's becoming increasingly harder to keep my temper at bay.

"She wanted…"

"You sick fuck!" I'm livid at the very idea that he can think that Bella wanted anything to do with him after the way things have gone down. "You thought it was okay to take advantage of her? You looked yourself in the mirror every fucking day, knowing she didn't really want you? That you took her away from me?"

And then he actually has the nerve to apologize. After the four years of hell that he and Tanya put Bella and me through, I'm not interested in his apologies. And I make that abundantly clear to him. There's no way in hell I'm going to forgive and forget. Not in this lifetime.

"Edward, listen…"

If I wasn't so pissed, I'd be stunned. He actually expects me to give him the fucking time of day right now, much less listen to his goddamn sob story about how he had a change of heart and told the truth? No way. "You… never… deserved… to… touch… her!" I shout, slamming my fist into his face with each word. His head cracks against the wall with each blow, and I don't care.

"Stop it, Edward!" a familiar voice calls out. Before I have time to place it, I'm being pulled away from Mike. Without me holding him up—for better access to his face—he crumples to the ground, folding over on himself. I see that he's bleeding from the mouth and nose and that his eye is cut up and swollen, but that's not enough. My struggles to free myself from the two men holding me back prove futile, and seconds later, I'm face down on the sidewalk with my hands being roughly pulled behind my back. I feel the coolness of metal around my wrists and realize that I'm being handcuffed. Turning my head, I lock eyes with Bella. Hers was the voice I heard yelling at me to stop. Now it's her gaze that's sobering me, bringing me back to Earth.

"Sorry, Bella," Mike whispers from his spot on the sidewalk. His murmured apology reminds me of his existence and sends me right back over the edge.

"You should be arresting him!" I shout at the police officers, one of whom is straddling me and pushing my face roughly onto the concrete while the other kneels next to Mike. "He fucking drugged her!"

"Be quiet, sir, unless you want to add resisting arrest to the charges!" The officer rams the heel of his hand hard into my back as he speaks, knocking the wind out of me.

"Aw, shit! She's going down!" one of the men who held me back before shouts.

My eyes snap back up to Bella's face, and her expression reminds me of a child who's just been told their kitten was run over by a car. And then I realize that _I _put that look on her face. _I _frightened her with my actions, my inability to control my temper, and now she's fainting. "Bella!" I cry, horrified.

She crumples to the ground just like Mike did a moment ago.

Officer Thump-My-Back pulls roughly on my handcuffed wrists, hauling me to my feet. "Come on, let's go," he says, yanking me toward his cruiser and seemingly not even caring that there's an unconscious woman and a nearly unconscious man mere feet from us.

"No!" I protest. "I have to stay with her. I have to make sure she's okay."

"Officer Niehus will take care of them. You're coming with me." I vaguely note his use of the plural pronoun; he's worried about Mike, too, not just Bella.

I know that resisting any further will only land me in even hotter water than I'm in already, so I make the decision to suck it up and, with a final glance at the scene around me, sink willingly into the back of the police cruiser. Just like in the cop shows, he places one hand on the top of my head to prevent me from banging into the roof of the car as I sit. With the door shut tightly, I lean back, sigh, and close my eyes, thinking about the shitty situation I've just landed myself in.

The backseat of a police car isn't someplace I've ever been before, and I'm surprised by the hard plastic; it's not at all like a normal backseat. The discomfort of the seat, compounded with the fact that my hands are still cuffed together behind my back, make thinking harder. Not impossible, but much more difficult. I replay the scene that just happened again, wondering if I'd do anything differently if I had the option of going back in time. _Nope, _I decide, _it was totally worth whatever punishment I get to have gotten some sort of revenge on Newton. _

We arrive at the police station mere moments later—the beauty of a small town: nothing's more than five minutes from anything else. Of course, the small town also means that everyone knows what's happened by the time we get there. My mother doesn't quite beat us there, but she comes pretty damn close. Officer Greene—as I've learned is the real name of Thump-My-Back—is inking my fingers and rolling them over his ten-card when she arrives.

"Edward! What's going on?"

"It's nothing, Mom," I mutter.

"But… your hands," she sputters, "they're all bloody." She's looking at the backs of my knuckles. Honestly, I hadn't noticed the cracks that were there and the bruises forming. With all the adrenaline of the moment, the pain hasn't caught up to me yet. Of course, as soon as she says something, I notice, and the ache is almost instantaneous.

"Aw, come on, sport. Tell your mom the truth." It's obvious from his tone that Officer Greene is taunting me. The worst part about it is that the guy can't be much older than me, yet he's treating me like an adolescent.

I glare at him.

"Edward," my mother admonishes me, "I heard you were in a fight and that you'd been brought down here. And that Bella and Mike Newton were taken to the hospital?"

"Shit! She's in the hospital?" I ask.

"Language!"

It takes every ounce of effort in me not to roll my eyes at my mom. The last thing I'm worried about now is a few curse words; I've been cursing for years. "Mom. Bella?" I say, reminding her of the topic at hand.

"I don't know, Edward. I just heard that you were going to be here, so this is where I came. _You're _my son, so you're my priority."

"I'm done here. For now, anyway. I need to go talk to Mr. Newton, find out if he wants to press charges against you. In the meantime, you'll be staying here." Officer Greene refastens my hands behind my back.

"Press charges? Honestly, what is going on? Edward, talk to me!" my mother begs as I'm led down the concrete hallway to the holding cell.

I hear my mom's heels clacking on the floor as she hurries to keep up with us. Though the sound is borderline comical, there's a sense of foreboding there, too; I know she'll want answers from me, and I just don't have them to give.

When we reach the cell Greene wants, he holds my cuffs with one hand while unlocking the iron bars with the other. To his credit, he's gentle when he ushers me in. I half expected him to shove me in, laughing and swallowing the key or something as he sauntered away. Such is not the case, though. He's not friendly, but he seems to be done being a complete jackass. Once I'm inside the cell, he uncuffs my wrists and slides the bar-door back in place.

Turning to my mom, he says, "You can stay and visit, ma'am, but you should know that until I talk to Mr. Newton, Mr. Cullen will be in here. And even if Mr. Newton opts not to press charges—which I'm not convinced he will, considering how badly he's beat up—that doesn't mean Chief Swan won't prosecute anyway. Battery is pretty serious." Without waiting for a response, he makes his way back down the hallway and, I assume, out the door.

"Battery, Edward?" My mother's face is stricken at the word Greene used. She leans back against the cinderblock wall, looking very much out of place. Her purple dress and matching handbag and shoes belong on the cover of a magazine, not visiting her son in jail.

"Mom, I don't know. I didn't mean for it to happen, but… God, he was just _there. _I never thought I'd have to see him again, and then he was right there, slinking around town." I sit heavily on the steel cot in the center of the cell and drop my head into my freshly freed hands. My fingers run roughly through my hair of their own accord, and I tug on the ends. "Why the fuck was he here?" I grumble.

"Just to be clear, we're talking about Mike Newton, right?"

"Yes." I don't lift my head to meet her gaze.

"Well, Son, you know that his parents live in this town, too. There's no way you could avoid seeing him forever. You have to be ready for that. You can't just hit him every time you see him."

"But he—" My head snaps up, and my eyes narrow at my mother.

"I know, Edward. I heard the tape, too. I'm not excusing his behavior, but I'm not going to excuse yours either. _Nothing _justifies what you did to him. I don't even know the whole story behind what you did, but it doesn't matter. You put him in the hospital! Surely you know that's not okay?"

I turn my head away so I can glare without feeling guilty about glaring at my mom. The last thing I'm willing to admit right now is that hitting Mike was the wrong course of action.

Eventually, the conversation with my mother turns to subjects beyond Mike Newton and where I am now. I don't know how long we talk, but it's actually kind of nice. I haven't had a good talk with my mom in ages; it's apparent that she enjoys it, too. I just wish we could be having this talk under better circumstances. Because my cell phone was confiscated when I was processed, I have no idea how much time has passed.

The sound of the heavy metal door opening and closing at the end of the hall catches me off guard; it's been just the two of us for… how long? I ask my mom and am surprised to learn that it's been a few hours. I watch expectantly as the heavy footsteps get louder and louder, indicating that their owner is getting closer. "Aw, fuck," I mutter as the black Doc Martens come into view.

"Focker," Charlie's voice booms in greeting.

"No, his name is Edward," my mother corrects him.

"It's from a movie, Mom." I hate that I have to explain this, but my mom doesn't actually watch many movies; she buys practically every DVD that comes out but doesn't ever watch them. "The Chief's taken to calling me by the name of a character from a movie."

"Oh." She looks confused.

"Mrs. Cullen, would you mind if I had a word with him? Alone?"

She blinks a few times, as if she's not sure how to react to Charlie's request, but then smooths her skirt, picking a nonexistent piece of lint from it. "Of course, Chief Swan. I'll just wait in the lobby."

The clicking of her heels against the floor is much more ominous now; this time, when the clacking stops, I'll have Charlie to deal with—he's a lot scarier than my mother.

"So," he begins when we're alone, "care to fill me in?"

"Not really," I reply with a hint of petulance in my voice.

"Let me rephrase that then. If you want a chance of getting out of here in time to go back to Dartmouth in three days, start talking."

I sigh, irritated. "It's not my fault."

Charlie scoffs. "Having seen him, and now seeing you, you're going to have to convince me of that. In a minute." And just like that, he's gone.

"Fabulous," I grumble, watching him go.

With nothing but my thoughts for company, I start worrying. What if Charlie doesn't see things my way? Is he serious about keeping me here long enough that I can't get to back to school next week? And Bella! I asked my mom about her once and then totally forgot when she didn't know. _Boyfriend of the year, I am,_ I think bitterly. First I scare the hell out of her, making her pass out, then I'm stuck here and can't be with her. _Damn it!_I rise from the cot and slam my fists against the cinderblocks that make up the walls here. And then curse again, because I've forgotten about the cuts and bruising coloring my knuckles, and the slam against the concrete makes them hurt even worse.

"Everything okay?" Charlie's back, this time with a folding metal chair in one hand.

"No!" I shout at him. "Everything is _not_ fucking okay! I'm stuck in fucking _jail_ while my girlfriend is apparently in the hospital!"

"You know you landed yourself here, though, right?" His voice is eerily calm.

I lean back against the cement wall and let my head fall back. It hurts a little, but I welcome the pain. "Has Bella told you what that fucker did to her?"

"Yes, she has," he replies coolly. "And I stand by what I just said. You landed yourself here."

"How can you take his side?" I ask angrily.

"How can you not?"

My eyes flash furiously. "You've got to be—"

"No, I'm not kidding you," he interrupts, correctly predicting my outburst. "Look at it from an outsider's perspective. He was in town, visiting his parents, and filling in at the store. He comes out, and before he can even make it to his car, he's being beaten to a pulp. There are no fewer than five witnesses, plus Mike himself, who name you as the perp." He gazes at me, conveying the seriousness of what he's saying in his eyes.

"I don't deny it," I reply defiantly. "My defense is completely different. I'm saying he had it coming."

Charlie sighs. "Listen, son, I'm not going to tell you that you were or weren't justified." The twinkle in his eye tells me that he's on my side, and my heart lifts for the first time since he's come to see me. "But I wouldn't be doing my job as Police Chief if I didn't come talk to you."

"I understand," I reply, more willing to cooperate with him and drop the pissed off persona now that I'm convinced he's not going to press charges. "Have you been to see Bella yet?"

"Oh, yes. I went there first. You didn't honestly think I'd put you before my daughter, did you?"

"How is she?" I ask, treating his question as rhetorical.

He pauses for a moment, apparently selecting his words carefully. "She'll be fine."

"She'll _be _fine? How is she now?" I repeat, accentuating my words.

"Awake."

I narrow my eyes, wondering if he's being purposefully vague to piss me off.

He gets the hint and elaborates. "She fell freely to the ground, Edward. She's not hurt badly, but she _is_ hurt. Scrapes and bruises, mostly, and a bump on the head. Fortunately, she seems fine now. She remembers most of the event, which is a good sign. That's what your dad says anyway. I can see the wisdom in that, but I think you might've been better off if she was a little fuzzy on the details."

"Shit! Is she mad at me?" I make my way to the bars, needing to be closer to him, as if being nearer to Charlie will somehow get me closer to Bella. Resting my arms on the crossbars, I clasp my hands in front of me, on the outside of the bars, and plead silently with him.

"Honestly, I have no idea. She didn't mention you. Not while I was there anyway. She seemed pretty worried about Mike when she woke up and insisted on seeing him. Her nurses had a heyday with that request, as you can imagine. She kept trying to convince them that she was fine, and they wouldn't hear of it. Head injury, you know."

"Damn it, damn it, damn it," I mutter. My head falls forward, my forehead resting against the bars. The words 'head injury' are echoing in my head, causing my brain to feel like it's literally throbbing. _Head injury. Head injury. Scrapes and bruises. Head injury. _"What have I done?"

Charlie doesn't say anything, just lets me wallow in my thoughts for a moment.

And wallow I do. _What have I done? _I ask the first time, I think that maybe I _wasn't _justified in taking my aggressions out on Mike. _What am I going to do if Bella decides that I went too far? What if she wants to go back to him?_

"She doesn't."

"What?"

"Want to get back with Mike."

Charlie's response to what I thought was a silent musing catches me off guard. I take the response and use it to get more information though. "How do you know?"

"She was very clear that she's interested in Mike's well being as a friend. _Only _a friend. For what it's worth." He shrugs.

Well, that's something, at least. Now more than ever, I need to get out of here and go see her. I have to fix this mess. "How soon can I see her?" I ask, lifting my head.

"Well, that all depends on Mr. Newton," Charlie replies.

Just then, the heavy door at the end of the hall bangs open, indicating that someone else is coming. I watch expectantly; so does Charlie.

"Steven," Charlie greets.

"Chief Swan," Greene replies, sounding surprised to see Charlie here.

"What's the good word?"

"Newton doesn't want to pursue this." Greene sounds like he's still having trouble believing that Mike doesn't want to press charges against me. Frankly, I'm a little stunned myself. Twisting the knife in the wound sounds just like something Mike would do, and pressing charges against me would be the most unfortunate instance of irony I've ever heard.

"Well, if he doesn't, then I don't see any need for the city to step in," Charlie announces. Then he speaks directly to me. "Consider this a warning. Next time, the city _will _press charges, no matter what Mike says."

"Yes, sir," I say, suddenly feeling like a child being chastised.

"Let him out," Charlie tells Greene then leaves with no warning, taking his chair with him.

**~SN~**

Half an hour later, my mother's dropping me off at the post office, where my car is still parked; I'm lucky it wasn't impounded. Fortunately, she's so thankful that I don't have to stay overnight that she didn't harp on me too much on the drive over. Her face is hard, however; she may not be giving me a hard time, but she definitely isn't happy with me.

"I'll call you later, when I know more of what's going on," I tell her.

Her face softens infinitesimally. "I want you to come to the house. Don't just call."

I know I'm in no place to negotiate after what happened today, so I agree before climbing out of her car and into mine.

I spend the drive to the hospital in silence, both actually and mentally; I don't even let my thoughts take over. I focus on the route, paying careful attention to things such as following distance, stop signs, and speed limits. The last thing I need is another run-in with any of Forks' finest tonight.

The sign in the door of the hospital declares visiting hours from eleven a.m. to eight p.m. A quick glance at my cell phone tells me that it's 7:30; I'm glad I made it out in enough time to visit Bella without having to pull in special favors from my dad. I approach the woman sitting behind the check-in desk, and she looks up from her paperwork and smiles pleasantly at me. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. I'm here to see Bella Swan."

She shifts her eyes to a computer screen and starts typing on the keyboard. Less than a minute later, she's telling me, "Room one-oh-seven. Follow the signs, and you can't miss it." She points toward the hallway to my left; all I needed was the room number, though, not directions. Since my dad's the head doctor in the emergency room here, I've spent plenty of time shadowing him, and I know the hospital backward and forward.

"Thank you," I tell her.

When I reach Bella's room, I knock gently.

"Come in," she calls.

"Hey," I greet her.

"Hey, yourself," she replies, and her face lights up. Though I hate seeing her in a hospital gown and bed, I'm comforted to note the obvious pleasure on her face at my arrival.

"How are you?" I can feel the concern etched in my face as I make my way to her bed.

She reaches out and smooths the line that's developed between my eyebrows. "I'm fine. Honest. I don't even know why they won't let me go right now. All I've got is a few bruises and a bump on my head." Her hand makes its way to the back of her head, seemingly unconsciously.

"Let me see," I murmur, leaning over her. My stomach turns at what I see there, just underneath her coffee-colored locks. 'Just a bump' is an understatement; it's no wonder they're keeping her here tonight. There's a goose egg, for sure, but the bruising surrounding the protrusion is far beyond anything I've ever seen on anyone's head before. Despite her dark hair, the purple skin of her scalp is apparent, and there's a cut straight across the center of the bump. "I'm so sorry." My voice cracks with guilt at the sight before me.

"Edward, no. There's nothing for you to be sorry for. I've been thinking about what happened since I woke up, and honestly, I don't blame you for what you did. Any red-blooded male who's worth his weight would have done the same thing. I know you were just fighting for my honor." She smiles shyly at me before continuing. "In fact, it was pretty hot. In hindsight, that is. At the time, it was terrifying."

I stare down at her, and her words play on repeat in my mind—like so many other words have over the course of this hellish day. She's not repulsed by what I did; she thinks it was 'hot.' Leaning down, I place one hand on either side of her small body and press my lips to hers. For a split second, I'm glad that neither of our faces were hurt in all the hubbub today. After that split second, I'm not thinking anything at all, except how much I love the woman I'm kissing. The kiss goes on for what seems like an eternity, and when I reluctantly pull away, I can't keep my feelings inside any longer. It doesn't matter that we've been dating for barely two weeks and 'together' for even less than that. It doesn't matter that ten days ago I was—however unenthusiastically —going to marry someone else. All that matters now is that she knows the epiphany I had on the dinner cruise. She needs to know the truth about the way I feel.

"It's always been you, Bella. I knew before but was too stupid to say it in high school. But I'm done being a pansy."

"Edward, what are you talking about? Why are you bringing up high school again? That's the past; we've moved beyond that."

I place one of my bruised and battered fingers to her lips, silencing her. She looks at me expectantly. "I love you."

**~SN~**

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**A/N: We just know you guys will have some thoughts and opinions on this chapter! Let us have it... good or bad. Do you think the 'I love yous' came too soon? Do you think Edward was justified in punching out Mike?**

**Thank you so much to those of you who nom'd us in the Tomato Soup Awards! **_**'Speak Now'**_ **has been nominated for three Tomato Soup Awards: Hershey Kiss for best kiss in Chapter 11, the Strawberry Jam Award for Best Bella, and Best Charlie. Thank you so much to whoever nom'd us! Sarita's stories, **_**'Broken Windows' **_**and **_**'I Want It Painted Black' **_**have been nom'd for a few awards each, and Sarita has been nom'd for Top Chef Award. Thank you, thank you!** ** Voting is still going on, and the link is on my profile.**

**As always, reviewers will receive a different special teaser not posted on teaser sites or our blogs. Thank you for reading!**

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	16. Chapter 14 Meet the Parents

**A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. (Totally Sarita's fault, as usual)**

**As always, thanks to Caz, Keye and Sandy, our prereaders and friends, for all their valuable feedback and suggestions. Huge thanks to our beta, Jess (jkane180), for wielding that Sparkly Red Pen of hers—especially since Wendy and I both have a tendency to mix a little past in with our present. *cough* **

* * *

**Chapter 14**

**~Meet the Parents~**

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**~*Bella*~**

"BP is 100/60, a little low. Goose egg on the back of the head, very little blood. I'm not going to start an IV on her."

"She's the Chief's daughter—has anyone called it in to him?"

"Yeah, Officer Greene did."

I can feel my body rocking back and forth, and I don't recognize the voices around me. My mind flounders, trying to remember what happened and how I got here. Cracking open my eyelids, I find myself staring up at silver metal with ridges. Glancing to the side, I see a crisp white, button-down shirt covered by a navy jacket with a blue and gold appliqué sewn on the front. My eyes have a little trouble focusing, but I already know that it says 'Forks First Aid' because I used to be a junior member of the squad back in high school.

"She's coming around..." a male voice mutters to my left.

The guy to my right, wearing the Forks First Aid jacket, leans in and speaks loudly, "Miss Swan. Can you hear me?"

"Mm-mm..." is all I can manage to mumble out. Realizing I'm strapped down, I panic a little and start to struggle weakly; I don't like the feeling of being restrained.

"Relax, sweetheart. Don't get yourself worked up." The paramedic's voice is soothing, not condescending. "Blink twice if you can hear me."

I blink twice.

"Good, that's it. We called your father, and he's meeting us at the hospital."

"Wha... happened?" I still don't know why I'm in the ambulance. The last thing I remember was standing at the desk in the post office waiting for a letter from Dartmouth. Edward was waiting outside in the... oh, shit! Suddenly the memory of Edward ramming his fist into Mike's face fills my mind. "Ed...ward! Where?" My heart rate skyrockets, and the monitor they have on me goes crazy.

_Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep_

"Whoa! Miss Swan, you need to ease up. It's going to be okay, sweetheart. You fainted and hit your head on the curb. Your blood pressure's a little low, but I'm not sure if it's a condition you have or if it was caused by shock."

_Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep_

The paramedic—I can see _Frank_ embroidered on his jacket in gold lettering now that my vision is clearer—takes my hand. "Come on now. You need to calm down. Take a few deep ones for me. In... and out. In... and out. That's my girl. Good." He leans away for a moment, letting go of my hand, and comes back with a clear mask, fitting it over my nose and mouth. "Just a little oxygen, sweetheart. Just breathe for me. You're doing so good."

As my breathing returns to normal, the heart monitor goes back to its regular _beep... beep... beep... _and I try not to think too much about Edward's fist connecting with Mike's face, the cop shoving him down to the ground, or Edward calling out my name in a terrified voice just before I blacked out. I can't keep my mind from thoughts of Edward behind bars for punching Mike's lights out, and that leads me to wonder how Mike is right now. I doubt the paramedics know anything, but I'm prevented from asking by the mask Frank is holding over my nose and mouth. Since I heard him say I have a goose egg on the back of my head, I know from my own training that he wouldn't lift my head up unnecessarily, which is why he hasn't strapped the oxygen mask on.

When we arrive at the hospital, chaos ensues. The paramedics pull the stretcher out of the ambulance as gently as possible, wheeling me in through the Emergency entrance. A cacophony of sounds assaults me: curtains being pulled along metal tracks, the squeak of rubber-soled shoes on linoleum, hushed conversations, papers being rifled, phones ringing, the loudspeaker paging various doctors. The stretcher is being wheeled along swiftly, and the dropped ceiling squares are flying by, making me dizzy. Blinking my eyes, I glance to the left side to see doors rushing by, which isn't much better. To my right, a large nurses' station whips by. I opt to close my eyes rather than try to focus them on the dizzying sights blurring by.

"Hey, Frank," a flirty female voice speaks from somewhere down past my feet.

"Hi, Kay. We've got a closed head trauma, unconscious for four minutes, no IV started. BP was 100/60 en route."

"Pull her into bay number four. I'll send the doc in." Kay is suddenly all business.

The stretcher finally rolls to a stop next to another bed. They drop the side, and my heart speeds, knowing they're going to move me. There's no resulting beep, and I wonder when they removed the heart monitor.

"Okay, Miss Swan. On the count of three we're going to move you. One... two... three."

The board is lifted and placed onto the bed. My stomach rolls as dizziness overtakes me. "Mm-mph... dizzy..." I whisper.

"I know; I'm sorry. We need to get the board out from under you, Miss Swan." Frank's voice is apologetic.

A minute later, my head is still spinning from being rolled to each side as they shifted me. They're extremely gentle, and I don't blame them for the nausea rolling in my belly. The curtain swishes, a bright light shines into my eyes for a moment, and a nurse comes into view.

"I can take this from here, guys." I recognize the voice as belonging to Kay, the nurse that greeted us on the way in. She leans forward, her soft brown eyes assessing me. "Miss Swan, the doctor will be in shortly. I'm going to take your vitals and hook up some monitors."

"Thanks, Kay. Good luck, Miss Swan. Tell the Chief that Frank and Tom said hello. Feel better."

My eyes open, and the paramedics are gone. Kay stands at my bedside adjusting an IV tube, which I note runs down to the back of my left hand. When did she start an IV, and why didn't I feel it? I hate needles, and IVs usually hurt when they're being inserted.

"What's going on?" I whisper hoarsely.

"You slipped into unconsciousness for about two minutes. The doctor will be right in," she answers brusquely. Her demeanor offers no indication as to whether this is 'normal' or not in a case like mine.

Kay slips through the curtains after laying a thin, white, knit blanket over me. I fight not to throw up as my stomach rolls again. It seems the more I move my eyes around, the sicker I feel, so I try to focus my eyes in one place. I watch the gentle _drip... drip… drip..._ into the IV tube, and the feelings of nausea and dizziness reduce, although they don't completely go away.

The curtain parts again, and I'm shocked to see Carlisle Cullen step into the cubicle.

"Bella," Carlisle acknowledges softly, and my heart monitor starts beeping faster. His merry blue eyes meet mine, and I see a little bit of Edward in the set of his jaw. "Try to relax, okay? Everything will be fine."

I blink rapidly and swallow a few times in an attempt to quell the rolling nausea, which ramped up again when Dr. Cullen entered the cubicle. The last thing I want to do is throw up all over myself in front of Edward's father!

The sound of papers rustling draws my attention; Carlisle is looking over my chart with a wrinkled brow. "You hit your head on the curb outside of 'Newton's Outfitters' and were unconscious for approximately four minutes. Low blood pressure, which has improved since you were brought in. You have a goose egg on the back of your head, and Nurse Kay says you drifted for a few minutes while she was hooking up your IV. I'd like to do a CT of your head, Bella. Have you eaten anything in the past four hours?"

"Yes, I'd say within the past two hours."

"Okay, then, we'll do a CT without contrast. Do you remember what happened, Bella?"

"Kind of. My thoughts keep slipping away from me."

"Dizziness or nausea?"

"Both."

"Double vision?"

"No."

"Okay, good. See you after the CT scan." Carlisle steps outside the curtain, and I can hear him speaking to Kay. "Miss Swan needs a non-contrast CT of the head. Do we have a room available?"

"Yes, Dr. Cullen. I already called over to the floor, so she can go right to her room after the scan."

"Excellent. Thank you, Kay."

The next hour or two are a bit of a blur as I'm rolled to the radiology department, which is much quieter than the ER and filled with the gentle hum of the scanners. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep in the CT scan machine because the next thing I know, I open my eyes to see my father sitting next to my bed in a typical hospital room. Thankfully, I have no roommate.

"Dad?" My voice is raspy, and my throat feels as if sandpaper was rubbed around inside it.

"Bells! How are you feeling, honey?" He leans in and kisses my forehead, his mustache tickling my skin.

"Like shit," I mutter with a weak smile. "Any chance of some water?"

"Sure. There's a pitcher of ice-water right here." Charlie moves to the tray table beside the bed and pours me a glass of water, then holds the straw while I sip it slowly. The coolness is a balm to my sore throat.

"Thanks."

"Your tests turned out fine, by the way. Dr. Cullen said you should be good as new soon, but he does want you to stay overnight for observation just to be sure."

"Dad, no!" I protest.

"No discussion about it, young lady!" Charlie's tone leaves no room for argument, and I feel like a chastised child.

"How's Mike?"

"Bruised and battered, but otherwise fine." Charlie grimaces, rubbing a hand over his face.

Before he can say anything else, I blurt, "I want to see him. I want to see Mike."

"You really think that's a good idea, Bells?" He glances at me warily.

"Yes." I don't give him any further explanation than that. I want to see that Mike is okay, but I also want to be sure he's_ not_ going to press charges against Edward. My mind keeps replaying Edward's fist slamming into Mike's face over and over again. Guilt floods through me because I'm sorry that Mike got his face mashed up, but a part of me feels that he totally deserved it. I also know that I will try to coerce Mike into dropping the charges if necessary. Edward can't go to jail because of me.

There's an uproar that ensues when Charlie requests that I be allowed to visit Mike's room, which happens to be on the same floor. Mike has a concussion, so they won't allow him to be moved. Despite my nausea, I force myself to sit up and look alert.

"See? I'm fine. Just bring me a wheelchair," I snap at the nurse. She's not convinced, but I settle the debate quickly. "Listen, you either bring me to Mike Newton's room, or I'm going to sign myself out!"

With a huff, the nurse says she needs to clear it with Dr. Cullen. Charlie hides a smirk behind his hand, but his eyes glitter with amusement. Five minutes later, I'm being wheeled up the hallway to Mike's room.

When I'm positioned by the side of the bed, I think I might be in the wrong room. The man before me is unrecognizable as anyone I know, his swollen face marred by varying shades of red, purple and blue. One eye is swelled shut, a butterfly bandage holding the skin together. I gasp at the sight, and his one good eye slides my way, widening when it lights on me.

"Bella," he croaks from between puffed up lips.

"Hey, Mike." I look down at my hands, afraid I won't be able to hide my horror at the condition of his face. To the nurse I say, "Can we have a few moments alone please?"

"Okay, but press the call button when you're done so I can wheel you back to your room. Don't get _any_ ideas of trying to get out of this wheelchair on your own," she replies sternly.

After she leaves, I stare at my twisting hands. I'm ashamed at my earlier thought that Mike deserved this, but I can't bring myself to be angry with Edward for doing to Mike what I only fantasized about doing to Tanya.

"Are you okay? How badly were you hurt?" His words are slightly garbled, but I can still understand him.

"I'm fine, Mike." I force my head up, meeting his one open eye. "How are _you_?"

"I've had better days, I have to say." His too-big lips twitch into a grimace that I suspect is supposed to pass for a smile. It looks painful. "I don't blame him, though."

"Y-You don't?"

"No... ow!" Mike yelps when he attempts to shake his head. "I wouldn't have much respect for Edward if he let me get away with what I did. I know if our positions were reversed, I'd punch his lights out, too. You didn't deserve any of this. You'll never know just how sorry I am."

"Do you really mean that? I mean... he really did a number on you."

"Yeah, I mean it. I'll heal."

"Edward's in jail," I blurt, and then tears start streaming down my face. "Th-They arrested him. Please, Mike... I –"

"I'm not pressing charges. An officer already came in to take my statement. I could never put you through that after what I did."

"Thank you, Mike." My body is flooded with gratefulness, and now that my mission is accomplished and I know Edward will be released soon, I slump forward in the chair as a wave of dizziness and nausea overtakes me.

Mike presses the call button hastily when I redecorate his room with ham and Swiss. Just... yuck.

~O~

After a bit of excitement over me emptying the contents of my stomach—it was just destined to happen at some point—the evening nurse that comes on duty helps me freshen up. She seems unaware of my earlier antics, and I wonder if it's because the other nurse doesn't like her much; usually nurses share information about the patients they're taking over. In any case, I'm grateful because this new nurse is much friendlier. She introduces herself as Patty, and she helps me wash my face, brush my teeth, and swish with some mouthwash. She even runs a comb through my hair before helping me back into bed.

"Okay, Bella, just press this button if you need anything else." Patty smiles as she tucks the blanket around me.

"Thank you, Patty."

I lie there trying to doze off, but my mind keeps replaying memories of the day, both good and bad.

_Cloud watching with Edward._

_Kissing Edward._

_The look on Edward's face when he realized we'd be going to Dartmouth together._

_Edward's lips closing over my nipple as he ground his hardness into me._

_Coming out of the post office and watching Edward pummel Mike's face._

_Edward's worried green eyes as they met mine just before I lost consciousness._

A knock on the door interrupts my reverie.

"Come in," I call out.

Edward is a sight for sore eyes as he saunters into my room and perches on the side of my bed. His handsome face is marred by guilt, and I'm quick to reassure him everything is fine, that I'm not angry with him for what he did. Edward's expression is hard to read, but a moment later, he places his hands on either side of me on the bed and leans in slowly, brushing his lips across mine. The kiss starts out soft, but as I respond, he increases the pressure, turning it passionate. I lose my breath as our lips move together, sending thrills through every nerve ending, and I'm disappointed when he pulls back. There's resolve in his eyes as he caresses my cheek, looking down on me with affection. "It's always been you, Bella. I knew before but was too stupid to say it in high school. But I'm done being a pansy."

"Edward, what are you talking about? Why are you bringing up high school again? That's the past; we've moved beyond that."

He places a finger up to my lips to stop me, his eyes now smoldering. "I love you," he whispers.

"What?" I ask, my mouth gaping open. That's the last thing I expected him to say right now.

"I love you, Bella. I don't care anymore that it seems too soon to say it." He pushes the hair back off my forehead and places a chaste kiss there. "I don't expect you to say it back, but I need you to know how I feel. The words have been burning a hole in my heart."

"Oh, Edward..." My eyes fill with tears. _He loves me? _"I – I love you, too. I was afraid to tell you for the same reason."

"You were?" A boyish smile spreads across Edward's face, and the elation there causes me to swoon. I could try to blame the dizzying feeling of weightlessness that overcomes me on my head injury, but I know better.

I simply nod in answer. Before I can say anything else, Edward's mouth covers mine again, and I can tell by the curve of his lips that he's still smiling.

We jump apart when a throat is cleared. Patty walks into the room with a barely-concealed smile. "Bella, time for your pain meds. Technically, visiting hours are over now, but if you keep the noise down, _and_ if you..." she points a finger at Edward "...don't send her heart monitor going crazy again, you can stay a while."

"I promise." Edward grins at Patty. "Thank you."

Patty hands me a pill and a paper cup of water, then looks at me with amusement in her gaze. "Be good, you two."

Edward laughs, and I shift over, making room for him on the bed. He wraps me in his arms, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

"I love you, Bella," he whispers against my ear, and I know I'll never be able to hear it often enough.

"I love you, too. I'm so glad you told me."

"Sleep now, my love."

And I do, slipping into the sweetest dreams of my future with Edward.

**~SN~**

The early morning sounds of the hospital wake me much sooner than I prefer; I've never been much of a morning person. Although the lights in my room were dimmed for sleeping, the brightness from the hallway blinds me when I crack an eye open. Someone is standing next to the bed, and I realize it's a tech from the lab here to take blood.

"Good morning," the young woman greets me. "I just need a few tubes of blood. Lucky for you, I can take it from the IV site. I'll be out of your hair in a moment."

Shifting my left arm, I feel a cold spot on the bed beside me where Edward laid while I was falling asleep. The memory of Edward telling me he loves me washes over me, and I can't hold back the smile that spreads across my face.

"You look happy," the phlebotomist comments as she gathers up her equipment.

"Life is good, despite landing in here."

"Could that smile have anything to do with him?" There's a twinkle in her eye, and she nods her head toward the other side of my bed.

Turning my head, I see Edward fast asleep in a high-backed chair with a hospital blanket covering part of his tall frame.

"It has everything to do with him." I put a hand over my mouth and giggle.

It's about an hour later, when I'm halfway through my breakfast, that Edward finally wakes up. With his eyes still closed, he stretches a little, yawns, and rolls his neck on his shoulders. When his eyes open, he seems surprised to find me watching him, but it doesn't take long before he offers up that crooked smile of his.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"Morning, sleepy head," I tease while buttering a piece of toast. "What are you still doing here?"

"I didn't want to leave you. I feel responsible –"

I hold a hand up to stop him, shaking my head. "No, no! We'll have none of that."

"But I also couldn't stand the thought of you here in this room all alone. You whimpered and grabbed at my shirt when I got off the bed." He smirks at me.

I glare at him but say nothing, popping another bite of toast in my mouth. I'm surprised to find the food isn't bad at all; hospital food has such a bad rep, so I fully expected it to be awful. I also find myself ravenously hungry, and I'm glad the food is edible.

Edward yawns again then leans over to plant a kiss on the top of my head. "How are you feeling?

"Hungry as a bear. I think I could polish off two trays of food this morning. And I want to go home." My tone turns whiny.

"I'll go see if I can find anything out." He brings his cheek to rest against mine, putting his lips next to my ear, and whispers, "I love you."

A shiver of pleasure tingles over my skin. "I love you, too." It's so new, but the words feel right.

Two hours later, Edward pulls up in front of Charlie's house. I'm surprised to see the cruiser in the driveway. Before I'm even out of the car, the front door opens, and my dad is standing there in his uniform.

Edward opens my door and wraps his arm around me, walking me up the path as if I can't do it alone. Rather than be annoyed by it, I find it endearing and sweet. Charlie watches with amusement, and I see his mustache twitch, which is a sure sign that he's trying to hold back a smile.

"Bells, Edward." He nods at us, stepping back so we can enter the house.

Edward leads me over to the couch then asks if I need anything.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"So... Edward, have a seat." Charlie claps his hands together.

_Uh oh._

"Dad..." I warn.

"What? What did I do?" It's comical when he widens his eyes in an attempt to exude innocence. He's a total fail at it.

"It's what you're _about_ to do that I'm worried about," I answer, shooting him a look.

Edward sits beside me, our legs touching, and takes my hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Charlie paces in front of the windows rather than sitting down. Slowing to a stop, he turns to face us, but his eyes are on Edward.

"Edward, as the Police Chief, I have a duty to uphold the law."

"Yes, sir."

"Dad! You're not seriously going to do this. I thought the charges were dropped!" I'm up on my feet in a split second.

"Sit down, young lady!" Charlie jabs his finger at me.

Chastised, I fall back into my seat; Charlie so rarely gives me commands, but he can be very intimidating when he does.

"Bella, let your dad talk. What I did was wrong." Edward wraps his arm around my shoulders, his other hand holding mine firmly in his.

"Sorry, Dad."

"As I was saying... I have a duty to uphold the law. If Mike had decided to press charges, I would've had no other choice than to go along with it. I just want you to know, Edward, I fully understand why you lost it on Newton. Hell, I've wanted to do just that since I found out what he did to my little girl. That said, you went a bit overboard. I just want you to keep in mind that I have no authority, nor do I know anyone in the police department, in New Hampshire. I'm trusting you to take care of Bella, and that means keeping your ass out of jail. You feel me, son?"

"Yes, sir. I promise I'll be there to take care of Bella. And thank you for being so understanding about Newton."

"And you," Charlie turns his cop stare on me, "be sure that I don't get a call that you're in jail."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. I know that Denali girl goes to Dartmouth, too. You hold your temper, young lady. And if she bothers you, don't be afraid to remind her that she could be doing some serious jail time for what she did."

"Okay, Dad."

"Welcome to the family, Edward." Charlie holds out his hand, and Edward stands up to shake it.

"Oh, my God," I mutter.

"What?" Charlie glares at me.

"You're totally doing this because he punched out Mike. _Now_ he's good enough."

"Well, hell yeah, Bella. He proved how far he's willing to go for you. If Edward didn't punch Newton when he saw him, I would've lost respect for him." He turns to Edward. "And I'm saying that as _her father_, not as the Chief of Police."

"Yes, sir." Edward smirks.

"Call me Charlie."

Ten minutes later, Charlie leaves to go to the station—apparently he felt the need to bump fists with Edward over Newton and make sure I was okay first—and Edward is sitting on my bed while I pack my things for Dartmouth. Every time I glance up, he's staring at me strangely. Finally, I slap my hand on top of a cardboard box, causing him to jump.

"What? Why are you staring at me?" I ask in exasperation.

"I wanted to ask you something. Kind of a favor, and I understand if you say no."

"O-kay..."

Abandoning the box, I move to stand in front of Edward, and he puts his hands on my hips.

"Come to my house for dinner?"

"_That's_ what has you all twisted up? Of course I'll come over for dinner, silly! Are you cooking for me, or are we getting take-out?"

"Um..." The tips of Edward's ears redden, and I wonder what his deal is. "You misunderstood my invitation."

"Would you rather eat here? Whatever you want, Edward." I smile, sitting on his lap and placing my arms around his neck. "You're hard to resist, you know."

"Great! Then you'll come over to my parents' house for dinner and officially meet my family?" he blurts out.

_Gulp._

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

Bella freezes in my arms. It's obvious why, too. I'm so anxious, now that we've finally admitted our feelings for one another, to let her into the one part of my life that she hasn't been privy to yet. So anxious, in fact, that I simply blurted out the invitation like a ten-year-old boy. So anxious that I barely gave her the option of saying 'no.' It's just that when I called my mom last night to tell her that I was going to stay overnight in the hospital with Bella—and thus wouldn't be home like she insisted—her condition for not being mad about my blatant disregard of her request was that we come for dinner tonight.

Despite my mother's insistence, I have to give Bella a real chance to decline the invitation. "Bella? Are you okay? Look, I'm sorry. We don't have to go. I'll just—"

"No, Edward. It's fine. There's nothing for you to be sorry about. _I'm _sorry. There was no reason for me to freak out like that. It's just… well… is your family going to be very receptive of me? I mean, I busted up your wedding for crying out loud."

I chuckle, relieved that that's her only issue. "They all knew that Tanya was no good for me long before I did. And they all know the full story; they're familiar with the tape. Bella, they're practically going to worship the ground you walk on."

She relaxes minutely. "I don't want to be worshiped."

I sigh. I hadn't expected her to pick that one word out of everything I said. "Relax, baby. I didn't mean it like that. I only meant that you have nothing to worry about. _Nothing_," I emphasize when she looks at me skeptically. "They're just happy that I'm finally happy."

She smiles. "You weren't really happy before?"

I smirk at her. "Not really, no. I would've survived, but I wasn't happy. The idiotic part of it all is that I didn't even realize it until the day of the wedding." Thoughts of my daydreams from that day flit through my mind quickly, one after another… the glint of mahogany hair out the window, Bella's face replacing Tanya's as she walked down the aisle, lounging on a beach wearing the wedding ring linking me to Bella…

She changes topic abruptly back to my invitation for the evening. "So, you really want to introduce me to your family?" She looks shy now, not worried like she was before.

My grin practically splits my face in two. "Yeah, I do. It seems only fair, considering all the hell your father's put me through the past week and a half."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. For what it's worth, he was the same way with Mi— with all the guys I've ever dated," she amends quickly.

She didn't have to change her thought like that, but it was a goodwill gesture, and I appreciate it. "It's really no problem. I'd swim through shark-infested waters if it meant I got to be with you when I got to the other shore. Dealing with 'Jack'… no problem." I nuzzle my nose in her hair, memorizing her scent. Vanilla, cinnamon, and strawberries, if I'm not mistaken.

"Compared to what we may be dealing with at Dartmouth, you may find yourself wishing for those shark-infested waters," she says darkly. I can't tell if she's joking or not.

~X~

An hour later, Bella's finished packing for school; three boxes are stacked in the corner of her bedroom, and she's assured me that her father will ship them for her. Next to the door is a suitcase packed with a week's worth of clothes, which she'll bring with her. When I give her the option of staying with me in the cottage for the last two nights before we leave, she blushes but agrees—after calling her dad. "Not that I need permission, but it's the nice, responsible thing to do."

"You don't have to defend your actions to me, Bella. I think you should keep good relations with your dad." _If for no other reason than to keep me on his good side, _I add silently.

With that decision made, she tosses one last glance around her bedroom, grabs her suitcase, and we leave the room.

The drive to my parents' house is spent in silence. I can't tell if it's because we're comfortable enough to not talk or if it's because she's still nervous about meeting my family for the first time since my farce of a wedding. In case it's the latter—which I strongly suspect it is, despite all my reassurances—I hold her hand in my lap, rubbing soothing circles over it with my thumb.

I hear her take a deep breath when we turn the corner into the driveway that leads to my parents' estate.

"It really is going to be okay," I tell her again.

She offers me a weak smile in return.

With the car parked, we make our way up to the house. The door is standing open, allowing the cool spring breeze inside. I hear chatter coming from the parlor, so I lead Bella that way. My mother, father, Emmett, and Rosalie are sitting in there talking when we arrive.

"Hey, bro!" Emmett says loudly when he notices us.

"He never learned the difference between an indoor voice and an outdoor voice in kindergarten," I tell Bella. Everyone laughs. I address the room at large next. "You all remember Bella, of course."

"I think Bella's going to be pretty memorable in this family for a long time," my mother says. There's an endearing quality to her voice.

"Well, come in and sit down," my father invites. "Bella, how's your head?"

"Dad. She's fine. You don't have to be a doctor right now; you can just be you." I sit on one of the vacant love seats, carefully pulling Bella down next to me. No matter how much I chastise my father for asking about her injury right now, I'm actually grateful for the reminder that I should be treating her with care. The cut across her bump is thin and has already scabbed over, but the last thing I want is to be responsible for putting her in the hospital again.

"It's okay," Bella says. "I'm fine, Dr. Cullen. Thank you for taking such good care of me yesterday."

He smiles smugly at me. Apparently my father is still a ten-year-old boy, too. "It was my pleasure, Bella. I know how important you've become to Edward. Not to say that you'd have gotten subpar treatment otherwise, but, well…" Red stains his cheeks. I'm shocked; I've never seen my father show any signs of embarrassment before. Ever. "I did take special note of your case."

"Carlisle!" my mother chastises. "That's unethical."

"Which is why that little tidbit doesn't leave this room." He looks at each of in turn; we all nod in agreement.

"So, what the hell happened yesterday? I've only heard bits and pieces," Emmett booms.

"Seriously, do you know how to be quiet?" Rosalie chides, slapping him on the knee.

"Whatever." Emmett leans over and kisses his wife's temple before looking back at Bella and me for the story.

I give an abbreviated version of the tale, glossing over details such as exactly how many times my fist connected with Newton's face (I'm not sure I even know the number) and the precise number of hours I was in the city jail. When I'm done, my brother looks awed. "I didn't know you had it in you, man. That's awesome."

"Emmett! It most certainly is _not _awesome. Edward is lucky he spent half a day behind bars and not several weeks." My mom looks pointedly at me, and her expression is pretty much the exact same one Chief Swan—_Charlie, _I remind myself—gave me before. The I'm-not-necessarily-opposed-to-what-you-did-but-you'd-better-not-try-it-again look. "Not to mention having had a criminal trial and a record." She shudders.

"Water under the bridge," my father reminds us. "Bella is fine, Mike Newton is going to be fine, and no charges were brought against Edward. There's really no reason to continue bringing it up."

My mom stands suddenly. "Yes, that's true. I'm going to go check on the roast."

"I'll help," Rosalie offers, rising and following my mother out of the room.

"Do you want something to drink?" I ask Bella.

"Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me," my father adds. "Yes, let me get you a drink."

"Er, sure, just an iced tea or water would be fine."

"Edward?" My dad's already moving toward the mini bar. "Your usual?"

"Yeah, thanks, Dad."

As he's handing us our glasses, Rosalie returns, letting us know that dinner's ready and we should come to the dining room. Holding my glass in one hand, I place the other on the small of Bella's back and lead her to the table. It's absolutely covered in food; there's way more than the six of us could possibly eat.

"Wow," Bella breathes. "That all looks amazing."

My family's always been big on tradition, even with little things like where we sit at the table. We've had essentially 'assigned seats' for as long as I can remember, so there's no 'standing around the table wondering where everyone's going to sit' awkwardness. We each just take our seats; sometime since I was here last, an extra chair was added next to mine, obviously for Bella. It's the same one that Tanya occupied for four years, but it's been conspicuously gone for the past two weeks; now that Bella's here, it's back.

I pull the chair out for her, and I can't keep from looking at the back of her head as she sits. I try not to be obvious about it, but I really want to make sure she's still okay. I can't see anything underneath her hair now; I take that as a good sign—it means the swelling has ceased since yesterday. When she's situated, I take my own seat.

"Whipped much?" Emmett snickers from his seat across from mine.

"You could take a hint from him, dear husband," Rosalie says. "When's the last time you were that attentive to me?"

"I've never done that."

"And yet I married you anyway." She looks across the table at Bella. "I think you got the good brother."

"Hey! I resent that." Emmett pouts. It's rather comical seeing a twenty-five year old man push his lower lip out.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm with you for the long haul." She reaches over and squeezes his hand affectionately.

Everyone's watched their exchange with rapt attention, eyes flitting back and forth like ping pong balls. Now that it appears they're done, I almost feel like I have whiplash. The conversation was so rapid-fire that you might think they'd rehearsed it. Though it was short, it was so… intense that I don't even remember what got them going in the first place.

"Um, where's Alice?" Bella asks timidly.

"Out with a new friend. Justin something." My mom doesn't sound too concerned about her only daughter's whereabouts.

"Jasper, Mom. Not Justin." I remember the name because it's so unusual.

"Right," she replies absentmindedly.

"Oh. I didn't know she wasn't going to be here." Bella sounds disappointed. "That came out wrong. I don't mean that I'm not interested in spending time with the rest of you… Ugh. Open mouth, insert foot." She's mumbling by the end.

"It's perfectly all right, dear. We know that you were always closer to Alice than the rest of us," Mom says.

"Yeah, we won't take it personally or anything." Emmett's voice is filled with mock hurt.

"Good thing," Bella says, teasing Emmett right back with a sly grin on her face.

"Excellent! Someone on my team who won't take his crap!" Rosalie reaches across the table to high-five Bella.

Conversation slows as we dish up the food and eat; it seems that everyone is starving. A few simple questions are tossed around, but other than that, everyone seems to focus on their food. When we're all sitting back in our chairs, relaxing while we let the food settle, the conversation picks up again. The most popular topic seems to be Dartmouth. I already told my parents that Bella was accepted and will be joining me there next week, and they're interested in knowing exactly what our plans are.

"Oh, don't worry," Bella says, correctly interpreting their vague question, "I'm going to be living in a dorm. I just got my paperwork yesterday, actually. What with the way everything went down, I haven't even looked at it yet."

Something in her statement triggers my memory. During our picnic yesterday, I promised Bella that I'd make flight arrangements so that we could travel to New Hampshire together; the past thirty hours have been so out of my control that I've been unable to do that yet. I don't want her to think that I've gone back on my word. The very last thing I need right now is an excuse for her to lose her trust in me. I know she says that she's more or less proud of the way I… took care of Mike, but after the way I lost it, I still feel like maybe I have something to prove. And what I'm going to prove is my trustworthiness. "Excuse me. I'll be right back." I stand from the table amidst confused looks from everyone there. It seems I've interrupted my father mid-sentence. I'll apologize later, though; right now, I have to take care of this before I forget again.

Feeling very distracted, I make my way out of the dining room and up the stairs to my father's office, where his computer is. As soon as the internet browser is open, I immediately go to the airline website; though there is room left on the flight I was supposed to take back with Tanya, I decide instead to exchange my ticket for a different flight and purchase a companion ticket for Bella on the replacement flight. It crosses my mind for half a second to exchange Tanya's ticket, too, and transfer it to Bella's name, but I decide to be bigger than that. It wouldn't accomplish anything besides pissing her off further, and I'd like to at least try to mitigate the damages.

With my ticket selections showing on the screen, I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet. I open it to pull out my AmEx black card and am surprised to find it missing. Where the hell is it? I have no clue, so I hit the American Express website, looking at recent transactions to try to figure it out.

_George Washington Inn, Port Angeles, Washington… $302.14_

_Miss Kitty's Clothing Boutique, Port Angeles, Washington… $3,383.17_

_Room Service, George Washington Inn, Port Angeles, Washington… $502.79_

_Chef Mavro, Honolulu, Hawaii… $112.72_

What the fuck? I haven't done any of this stuff in the past week. And then it hits me. Tanya has. The flight to Fiji had a layover in Honolulu, and she probably went to Port Angeles to get away from the church right after the wedding was interrupted. I must've given her my card at some point and not realized that she never returned it. Of course, why should I have thought about it? I was going to marry her; 'what's mine is yours' and all that. The next entry is the worst.

_Vomo Island Resort, Mamanuca Islands, Fiji… $713_

There are twelve of those entries, totaling over eight thousand dollars. "Damn it!" I slam my fist against my father's desk.

"Everything okay?" a timid voice asks from the door.

I jump; I hadn't realized anyone had followed me. "Bella," I say, looking up. "Honestly? No, things aren't okay." I gesture for her to join me.

"What's wrong?" There's just the one chair behind the desk, so I pull her carefully into my lap.

"Tanya has my credit card, and she's been going nuts with the spending."

Bella gasps. "How do you know?"

"Well," I start, gesturing toward the screen, "I was booking our flight back to New Hampshire like I told you I would, and when it was time to pay, I went to pull my card out, and it was missing. So I checked with the website, and these are the recent purchases. That is not the hotel we booked six months ago. That one's about triple the price of the other one." I point out the Vomo Island Resort entries.

I wait while she reads the screen. "Wow. So what are you going to do now?"

"Well, for starters, I'm going to cancel the card. I'll call the company in the morning and figure out what kind of recourse there is, if any. I'm not holding my breath, though, since she's had permission to use the card in the past. I may end up paying the charges."

"But that's not fair. She's racking up your balance out of spite."

I reach around her, clicking through the site and following the instructions under the 'what to do if your card is lost or stolen' menu. "Because we were engaged, I don't know if American Express will see it that way." When I've done everything I can for now, I close out of that tab, which brings the airline site back to the front. "How does a red-eye tomorrow night sound instead of leaving the following morning?" I ask her after clicking through the alternate flights—the initial one I'd picked is a bit much for what I've got in my checking account; I can pull more from my trust fund, but not until the weekend is over. Without my AmEx, I have to use my debit card for the tickets.

"A red-eye is fine. But I can pay for my own ticket, you know."

"Nah, it's fine. I want to do this for you."

I book the tickets and kiss Bella gently on the mouth before saying, "We should rejoin everyone else."

"Yeah, probably. They seemed pretty shocked at your sudden departure."

"I know. I shouldn't have done that, but I didn't want to forget to book us seats together, and we're nearly out of time. Turns out it was a good thing I came to check on things." My voice turns dark at the end, and I silently curse Tanya. Again.

We make our way back downstairs; everyone has returned to the parlor. "What was that all about?" my father asks.

"I'm sorry I just took off like that. I had to exchange my ticket back to Dartmouth for a pair, so I could go with Bella. And while I was up there, I found my AmEx card missing."

"What?" my mother exclaims. "What do you mean 'missing'?"

"Tanya has it. She's apparently been treating herself to fancy restaurants, new clothes, and expensive hotels on me."

"Whoa. She's more cunning than I thought," Emmett says.

"Yeah. I've reported the card stolen, so at least there won't be any more charges. I'll have to actually call them in the morning and see what can be done about the money she's already spent."

"What a mess," Rosalie comments.

"Tell me about it," I mutter, rubbing my eyes. "Listen, if you guys don't mind, I think we're going to take off. And just so you know, I didn't have enough cash in my bank account to cover the regular tickets, so Bella and I are taking a red-eye tomorrow night."

"That soon?" My mother sounds disappointed.

"It's really only twelve hours early, Mom," I justify, "and most of those would have been spent sleeping anyway."

"I know, I know. It's more the suddenness of missing out on those twelve hours than anything else."

I drop Bella's hand and make my way over to where my mom is sitting, wrapping my arms around her securely. "This is actually a good thing, Mom. We both know if I was going back with Tanya, I'd never make it here again. Since it's Bella, I'll come home every chance I can get. I'm sure she'll want to visit Charlie," I whisper so that only she can hear.

"You promise?"

"Yeah, I promise. We'll be around for a few hours in the morning tomorrow, too," I say, straightening up.

"Okay."

"Okay," I repeat, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "So, we'll see you guys tomorrow." I make my way back to Bella, wrapping one arm around her shoulders when I get there.

"Goodnight. Thank you for a lovely dinner," Bella says.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Emmett hollers as we turn to leave. I flip him the bird over my shoulder, and I hear the laughter of most of my family as I pull the door closed; my mother is conspicuously silent at my rude gesture.

We pull up to the cottage, and as I'm unlocking the door, my cell phone rings. "Go on inside," I tell Bella. "I'll be there in a minute. I probably just forgot something up at the main house, and my mom's calling to remind me."

"Okay, sure." She smiles at me as she crosses the threshold.

I dig my phone out of my pocket and am a little surprised to see that the caller ID reads 'restricted._'_ _Definitely not Mom, then_."Hello," I say gruffly, suspicious of the hidden identification of the caller.

"Edward," a familiar voice purrs through the line.

Adrenaline spikes my system. Adrenaline and anger. "Tanya," I sneer.

"Miss me yet?"

I can't help but laugh maniacally at her presumptive statement. "Are you kidding?"

"Oh, come off it, Edward. We both know that we belong together." She sounds defiant now. "You and I are perfect for each other. Good families, good looks, money."

My blood boils, and my hand clenches tighter around my cell phone. "We do _not _belong together. You are a lying, manipulative bitch who orchestrated the drugging of a girl to get what you wanted. I'd never do that!"

She seems to realize that her defiance isn't going to get her anywhere, and she reverts back to what I'm sure she thinks is seductive. "I did that for you, baby."

A growl rips from my chest; I literally cannot believe my ears. "No, Tanya, you didn't. You never did anything for me in the four years we were together. Even now, you're doing everything in your power to fuck me over."

"What do you mean?" she asks innocently.

"You're kidding, right? You didn't honestly think I'd never find out about my AmEx, did you?"

"Oh, that."

I can't read the tone of her voice. "Yeah, _that._"

"I didn't think it was a big deal. I mean, I knew you were just blowing off some steam with Bella… that we'd be together again soon enough."

"There isn't a chance in hell that's going to happen, Tanya, and you know it. I've been clear with you over and over again during the past two weeks. But you need me to spell it out again? Fine. _It's over. _As in, I never want to see you again. We're done. Understand?"

She makes a sound that sounds oddly like a twittering bird; that's really the only way to describe it. "We'll just have to see about that." The line clicks before I have a chance to respond.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Looking around, I see that I wandered into the woods while I was talking to her on the phone; I didn't even realize it at the time. Since I'm alone for the moment, though, I let off a little steam. "Fuck!" I shout. My voice echoes back at me. It feels good to get that out of my system.

I wind my way back around the trees to the cottage. The light shining through the front window is warm and inviting. I let myself in and see Bella waiting for me on the couch.

"Everything okay?" she asks for the second time tonight.

And, for the second time tonight, I have to tell her that Tanya's screwing things up for us again. "That was Tanya on the phone."

Bella pales. "Really?"

"Yeah. Please don't worry, though. I made it very clear—again—that I don't want anything to do with her. I don't care what she does to us, Bella; I want to be with you no matter what." I sit next to her and cup her face, holding her gaze. "Whatever she throws at us, we'll deal with together."

She melts into me, nuzzling my palm with her cheek. "I love you," she says and turns to kiss my hand.

Just like the first time she said it in the hospital, my heart soars at her words. "I love you, too." I lean in and kiss her, comfortable in the fact that I know what I've just said is true. I have no doubt that Tanya will make our lives a living hell over the next nine months, but it'll all be worth it to be with Bella. We _will _make it through it together.

**~SN~**

**A/N: Getting a taste of what Tanya will be like... Next chapter is a very emotional one and will lead us into the fuckery that will occur when our favorite couple reach Dartmouth.**

**As always, reviewers will receive a different special teaser not posted on teaser sites or our blogs. Thank you for reading!**

***If you send in an anonymous review or have PMs disabled, we have no way of sending you teasers, sorry.**

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**Sarita is working on her first novel. For information and updates you can follow her original fiction Twitter (at) SarahAisling**


	17. Chapter 15 Rising from the Ashes

**A/N: Emotional chapter ahead, guys. Thank you so much for your support. We appreciate it more than we can say.**

**As always, thanks to Caz, Keye, and Sandy, our prereaders and friends, for all their valuable feedback and suggestions. Huge thanks to our beta, Jess (jkane180), for wielding that Sparkly Red Pen of hers—especially since Wendy and I both have a tendency to mix a little past in with our present. *cough* **

* * *

**Chapter 15**

**~Rising from the Ashes~**

* * *

_The phoenix hope can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune's spite, revive from ashes and rise_. ~Miguel de Cervantes

**~*Bella*~**

Sitting on the couch in the cottage, my mind wanders over the evening at the Cullens'. I think it went well, and everyone was very accepting of me—welcoming even. I really enjoyed the banter between Emmett and Rosalie; they're obviously deeply in love. Carlisle and Esme were nothing but kind. I was a bit disappointed that Alice wasn't there, especially since Edward and I are leaving for Dartmouth tomorrow night, but I'm sure we'll find a way to catch up. The memory of her winking at me as she followed the procession down the aisle at the church comes to mind—somehow she knew and approved of me coming for Edward. It was also obvious that there was no love lost between her and Tanya. It seems Tanya made quite the impression with Edward's family, although they kept their mouths shut until it was clear he wasn't going to marry her. I'm not quite sure how I feel about that—I know Charlie would tell me straight out if he didn't approve of someone I was with, especially if I planned to marry them. I think that's part of the reason he was so devastated when he found out what Mike did to me. Charlie really liked Mike and trusted him to take care of me. My father never said so, but I can see the flash of guilt in his eyes whenever we talk about Mike; deep down he feels he should have known something wasn't right. Must be the cop in him.

Shaking off my thoughts, I realize Edward has been outside for quite a while. Just as I'm about to go searching for him, he comes in the door slowly. I can tell by the set of his jaw and the tension running across his shoulders that something isn't right.

"Everything okay?" I ask, knowing it's not.

Edward's expression is conflicted. I sense he'd like to say, 'yes, everything is fine,' but he doesn't want to lie to me—something I greatly appreciate. It's vital that we maintain trust and honesty in our budding relationship.

With a sigh, he rubs his fingers over his eyes. "That was Tanya on the phone."

"Really?" A wave of nausea churns in my stomach. She's never going to leave us alone. We're about to head to Dartmouth tomorrow, straight into the fox's den.

"Yeah. Please don't worry, though. I made it very clear—again—that I don't want anything to do with her. I don't care what she does to us, Bella; I want to be with you no matter what." Edward sinks down to the couch beside me, cupping my face in his hands gently. "Whatever she throws at us, we'll deal with together." His voice is low and soft, and I know he wants this to be true just as much as I do.

I tilt my head to the side, leaning into his touch. "I love you," I whisper, placing a kiss in his palm.

"I love you, too."

He leans in to kiss me tenderly, and I want to believe everything is going to be okay; I do. Despite all our best efforts to reassure each other, fear ripples through me. We love each other, but is it enough? Tanya and Mike ruined what was building between us so easily in high school—could she do it again? The love is there, but will it be enough?

"Bella, what's wrong? Please don't let Tanya spook you." Edward's eyes capture mine, and I see the fear lingering in his, but is it fear that I don't believe or fear that Tanya will be able to drive a wedge between us again?

"I'm sorry, Edward. I – I'm scared of what she's going to do when we get to Dartmouth. Somehow I don't think the threat of jail time will stop her from trying to get you back."

"_That _will never happen. Even if you and I weren't together, I'm so done with her." Edward's voice drips with venom, and he suddenly reaches out to pull me to his chest, cradling my head against it. "Promise me, Bella. Promise you won't allow her to destroy us." His voice is low and hoarse, and I feel a shudder go through his body.

How can I promise him that? I really have no control over what happens. Back in high school, Edward was the one who threw _me_ away. _I_was always willing to talk.

"How can I, Edward? I can only speak for myself," I mumble into his shirt, the musky, masculine scent of him washing over me as I take a shaky breath. "_You _believed her lies in high school, not me." My words hold no malice, but Edward draws in a sharp breath, his body stiffening around mine.

"Bella... I'll never be able to express to you how sorry I am about that. That's in the past, though."

"What if Tanya tells you some other wild story?" I ask gently. It's not my intention to beat Edward up about this, but it's a real and valid concern of mine. A part of me still wonders how he could have treated me that way, never even offering me a chance to explain myself. The knowledge sits like a heavy stone inside my chest.

"I've learned from my mistakes. I'm not the impulsive, hot-headed jerk I was in high school." He pushes me back so he can look down at me, his eyes burning into mine. "You are the most important thing in my life, Bella. I'll never let anyone come between us again. Especially not Tanya fucking Denali," he growls.

"Fair enough. I think I'm going to take a shower."

As I start to walk away, he grabs my hand. "I love you." The way he hesitates as he looks into my eyes makes me think there's more he wants to say, but he simply lets go.

"I love you, too."

Grabbing everything I need for my shower, I enter the bathroom. When I look in the mirror, I see a woman haunted by the past. Tanya's boldness in racking up debt on Edward's Amex card, in addition to her recent phone call, bring the past back for me—I can almost taste the bile rising in my throat from the day Edward blew me off in Biology. His words echo around in my head now, and I'm unable to shut them off.

_"Yeah, well, sometimes a kiss is just a fucking kiss, huh, Bella? Not every hook-up has to mean something earth shattering."_

_"Sure. It was a party; we'd had a bit to drink."_

_"Forget them. People say shit."_

_"No, Bella. We just don't run in the same circles; maybe it's best we stick to being biology partners, okay?"_

At the time, I believed I meant so little to him that it was easy for him to brush me aside and take up with Tanya. So much was fucked up because of what Edward thought he saw that night—because of what Tanya led him to believe. Tears fill my eyes, and I can't hold them back. Quickly, I turn on the shower, waiting a moment for the temperature to adjust before stepping under the hot spray. My tears roll down my face, mixing with the cleansing water, and I pray that we're strong enough to survive Tanya this time. I don't think I can stand to lose Edward again; I don't know how I would survive it. The first time was devastating in and of itself, even though we only shared that one kiss back then. Now, after being with him for a few weeks, sharing our hopes and dreams, being intimate... a hollow feeling blooms inside my chest just contemplating it.

My thoughts turn to me giving my virginity to Mike and how desperately I wish it could have been Edward. I close my eyes tightly as if I can ward off these thoughts, but they're inside me, a part of me, ingrained in every cell. Pain slices through me, and my tears increase. Wrapping my arms around myself, I stop pretending to take a shower, giving myself over to my agony as I allow the spray to wash the tears away as they fall.

Suddenly, my head-trip is interrupted. Warm skin presses against my back, and strong arms wrap around me snugly. Gentle lips ghost kisses along the side of my neck, bringing me back from the edge.

"What's wrong?" Edward's voice comes in a pained whisper against my skin. I can hear the fear in his voice.

Even though I should be, I'm not surprised to find Edward's body pressed up against mine, and I'm so glad he's here to hold me right now. I just shake my head, crying harder.

"Please, Bella, talk to me. Have I done something...?"

"No!" I'm quick to exclaim. I don't want to turn around and have him see me like this, but I do want to reassure him. "You're wonderful, Edward—everything I've ever dreamed of and more. It's just that... it all finally hit me. All of it." I sag back against his body, allowing him to hold me up as another round of sobs shake me. Now that the floodgates have opened, I can't seem to stop.

"It's okay, Bella. I'm here. Whatever you need." His lips press against my ear. "I'll always be here; I promise."

The pain of losing him four years ago mixes with the pleasure of being held by him now, and I feel as though I'm caught in the middle between the past and the present. Behind my eyes, all I can see are images of Edward looking at me with derision, Edward walking the halls holding hands with Tanya, Edward leaning casually up against his locker with his hands on Tanya's hips as he kisses her deeply. Edward standing up at the altar about to say 'I do.'

Those images are tempered by Edward in the groom's dressing room holding my face as he kissed me tenderly, as he told me it had always been me, as he kicked Tanya out of the room. Edward taking me on the dinner cruise, to 'Windows on Seattle,' to the cottage, to the ruins... sleeping wrapped up in his strong embrace. Edward defending my honor by punching out Mike, and his declaration of love in my hospital room. Introducing me to his family. Going in the dunk tank for me and walking around in wet jeans all night. Kissing me on the Ferris wheel.

There are so many wonderful memories we've already made in just the past two weeks. Surely our progress has to cancel out the horrible things that were done to us four years ago. Right?

"Edward... it's almost as if I'm in mourning for the you and me that no longer exist. I have all these memories of the past two weeks with you, and they've been so wonderful..."

Edward's arms tighten around me to the point I can barely draw a breath, and still, it's not tight enough. "But?"

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful because I thank God every day for bringing us back together, but it's so hard for me to reconcile. The people we were back then are gone, and we can't get them back. So much was taken away from us, but no matter what we do, we can't get those years back—ever."

The water is growing cold, and I shiver despite having Edward's warm body up against mine.

"Let's get out of here, okay? Let me take care of you." Edward turns us around so he's facing the spray and turns off the tap. He reaches for a towel, wrapping it around me lovingly. I finally turn my head to look into his eyes; I see tears coursing down his cheeks, and it causes a catch in my throat.

Edward towels me off, grabbing a fluffy white terrycloth robe to enfold me in before drying off his own shivering body. When I move to leave the bathroom, he tugs on the sleeve of my robe with a slight shake of his head, and it's understood that he doesn't want to be away from me right now. I'm perfectly fine with that because I don't want to be apart from him either.

Once we're both wrapped up in soft terrycloth, Edward leads me into the bedroom. There's already a stack of logs in the fireplace, and Edward leans away from me just long enough to set it alight. Taking my hand, he pulls me over to the bed, and by unspoken agreement, we lie down facing each other. The only light in the room comes from the flickering flames in the hearth, casting long shadows over the walls and ceiling.

Edward's face is vulnerable, like a child's, and more tears make silvery trails along the planes of his face as he looks into my eyes. I wipe away his tears with the pad of my thumb, rubbing them across my lips. He does the same before cupping my face in his hands and bringing his lips to touch against mine, our tears mingling. His kiss is slow and tender, going on for the longest time as our lips move together.

He pulls back slightly, our lips barely touching. "Bella, how can we be expected to be over what happened four years ago? For us, it only happened two weeks ago. We've been trying so hard to make up for what we lost that we never took the time to mourn those poor unsuspecting teenagers that we were." His eyes flutter closed, and he leans in for another soft kiss.

My hands grip his forearms. "Thank you for understanding. I was so afraid you'd think there was something wrong with me. I mean, I should just be grateful that we're together now... but I feel almost as if somebody died."

"I understand; I do."

"Mike was my first..." A sob hiccups out of me, a fresh set of tears rolling down my face. "He was gentle with me and all, but I wanted... I wanted it to be you."

Edward pulls me against his chest, and I tuck my head in the crook of his neck, happy that he can no longer see my mortified face. I'm ashamed to be bringing all this up, and yet he seems so understanding.

"I wish that, too, Bella. I would have been honored to be your first," he murmurs, stroking my hair.

A thought strikes me, and it's out before I can clamp my lips shut. "Was Tanya _your_ first?" _I'm not sure I want to know the answer._

"No, she wasn't."

Relief floods through me. I couldn't admit it until this moment, but I so didn't want to hear that Edward lost his virginity to Tanya.

"Who?"

"Angela Weber."

"_Angela__ Weber_?" I can't hold back my surprise. "I never heard that you two dated..."

"We didn't, really. It was the summer before senior year. We both were working as counselors at a summer camp in Port Angeles. Since it was a sleepover camp, the counselors slept in dorms, too. One night, we were hanging out on the floating dock drinking a few beers, and someone untied it as a joke. Before we knew it, we'd floated to the middle of the lake. It all seemed pretty funny with the alcohol in our system. It was a really dark night—no moon—and one thing kind of led to another..."

"No protection?" _That_ is the question I ask when my boyfriend tells me he schtupped Angela Weber on a floating dock in the middle of a lake? _Lame._

Edward laughs. "She was on the pill for some female issue, but even if she wasn't, _I_ was prepared. Emmett always insisted I carry a condom in my wallet 'because you never know when you might get lucky.'" He makes air quotes around Emmett's advice.

"Were you... her first?"

"Yes."

"So how come you two never dated?"

"Angela was happy she lost her virginity to a 'nice guy'—her words—but once we sobered up the next day, we found there was no magic between us."

"I'm glad it wasn't Tanya," I blurt out. _Word vomit much, Bella?_

"So am I," Edward answers softly, his fingers massaging my scalp.

Suddenly, I'm not feeling so upset anymore, and I realize my face is buried in the crook of Edward's neck. Inhaling, I get a whiff of his masculine scent, magnified from the dampness that still clings to his skin. I start placing soft kisses on his neck, alternating with teasing licks of my tongue. Edward groans, pulling me in tighter, and I can feel something poke me in the thigh. Smiling into his neck, I shift my hips forward, brushing against him.

He doesn't say anything, but his hands are suddenly very busy pushing my robe aside and gripping my hips. Tilting his head back, he looks me in the eye, one hand caressing my navel. "I want to touch you, Bella," he says, trailing his fingers lower.

He's not asking, but he's not demanding either.

My breath hitches as his fingers brush against the soft curls nestled at the apex of my thighs. "Open up for me, beautiful," he whispers.

I bend my top leg up and out, giving him access to the now-throbbing wetness between my legs. I've never done this lying on my side face to face, and something about it really excites me. His eyes remain on mine as he slips a finger just inside my folds, exploring languidly. When my heart speeds and my hips start pressing forward in an attempt to gain more friction, Edward pushes a finger deep inside me, then another. He rubs his thumb in slow circles over my clit as my hips pulse against his hand, and heated flutters begin to gather in my abdomen.

"Oh..." I gasp.

"I'll always be here," he whispers. "Never leave you."

It seems like an odd thing to say when finger-fucking your girlfriend, but his words turn me on even more. "Mm-mm..."

His eyes are still on mine, dark and smoldering.

"I'm yours, Bella."

His fingers delve deeper, harder, faster, his thumb still grazing my clit in slow circles. I can't speak, and I can't look away from him; my heart is slamming so hard against my ribs, an orgasm fast approaching as I gasp for air.

"You're the first woman—the _only _woman—to own my heart."

The impact of his words slams into me, and I come all over his hand as he continues to work me. My nails dig into his shoulders, and I cry out his name, throwing my head back and scrunching my eyes closed. I want to look into his eyes as I climax, but that's easier said than done when ecstasy hits you hard, taking over your entire being. I ride the waves of pleasure his fingers continue to coax out of me until the nerve endings between my legs become super sensitive. It's as if he senses this instinctively because he gradually slows his movements, keeping his hand cupped over my sex possessively.

When my breathing slows, I open my eyes to find him watching me closely.

"Edward... you're the only one who's ever really owned my heart, too. I love you so much."

"I love you, Bella, for always. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you—how I've always felt deep down."

And then he's kissing me, pulling me closer so I can feel how hard he is. Up until this moment, he's tried to be the gentleman, usually shifting his hips away, but this time, he grinds against my thigh with a strangled moan. The sensations are contradictory because his cock is covered by terrycloth, which is whisper-soft, and yet his masculine hardness lurks just beneath.

His tongue is in my mouth and his hands all over me. I pull at the tie on his robe, pushing it aside to slide my hand down his abs and curl my fingers around his straining erection. The skin is baby-soft and silky over steel-rod hardness—yet another tactile contradiction. I have the desire to see him in all his naked glory, but there's plenty of time for that later on. I decide to watch his face while I bring him pleasure, like he did with me.

Tightening my fingers around Edward's cock, I begin stroking him. I watch his face carefully to learn how he likes it best. When I graze my thumb just under the head, it elicits a low moan. Edward looks down to watch as I continue stroking him, and his hips thrust forward into my hand, finding a rhythm, his breathing ragged. His heavily lidded eyes come back up to capture mine, and he brings the fingers that were just buried deep inside me up to his mouth and licks them slowly.

"Holy fuck, that's hot!" I whimper, almost coming again at the sight of him licking my juices from his long fingers.

"Mm-mm..." He pulls his fingers from his mouth, licking his lips, then leans in to kiss me deeply. I can taste myself on his tongue, and I can't suppress my answering moan.

Edward's hips jerk faster into my fist, and I can feel his cock grow harder as he nears his climax. Shoving his tongue deeper into my mouth, he tweaks my nipple _hard,_and I come again. Edward cries out into my mouth as his release overtakes him, and we're swept away together on a wave of ecstasy.

As our breathing slowly returns to normal, Edward turns on his back, tucking me into his side after grabbing some tissues to clean us off. He places a kiss on the top of my head, hugging me tighter. "I love you."

I sigh happily. "I love you, too. Was it... enough... for now?"

"It was awesome. There's no rush, Bella. When I make love to you, I want you to be completely ready. I want it to be special—like it's the first time for us both."

We lay there together for a while in a comfortable silence, watching the shadow of the flames dance across the ceiling. Edward strokes my arm absently, dropping more kisses in my hair every so often.

"Thank you," I whisper, my eyes filling with tears.

"You're welcome," he murmurs, then asks, "What exactly are you thanking me for?" I can almost picture the lopsided smile that's sure to be tugging at his lips.

"For knowing I needed you in the shower, for always being here for me, for helping me to realize that we're going to be okay."

"I'd do anything for you, Bella. I hope you know that."

"I didn't always know it, but I do now."

Feeling secure and sated, I slip easily into a deep sleep with my cheek pressed against Edward's chest.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

_The water running in the other room permeates my thoughts—that is, until I realize that it's not the shower that's broken into my reverie: it's loud, wracking sobs. Sobs combined with the saddest voice I've ever heard in my entire life. I get up from the couch and walk over to the bathroom door. The sobbing is much louder from this position, and the words are clear. "I thought I meant something… Just a kiss… Can't lose you…"_

_I don't mean to eavesdrop, but Bella's voice is calling to me, whether she means it to or not. "Gave Mike… Tanya…" Her words turn incoherent after that, and I know that I can't just leave her there to suffer all by herself._

_I open the bathroom door quietly, not wanting to startle Bella. Her clothes are pooled on the floor near the sink, as if she took them off in a hurry. I strip out of mine and let them fall on top of hers, then climb into the shower. She's facing the spray, letting the water flow over her face. I can't tell where her tears end and the shower begins. "What's wrong?" I whisper, pained, as I wrap my arms protectively around her waist. "Have I done something wrong?"_

_She turns to face me, and her eyes express more pain than I've ever seen in anyone in all of my twenty-two years. "Yes," she whispers._

_My heart clenches at her response. I swallow thickly, unable to say or do anything else._

_"You abandoned me, wouldn't even give me a chance to explain myself."_

_"I know, Bella. God, I know. I'm sorry; I'm so sorry…"_

_"Sorry's not enough sometimes," she murmurs. "I wish it was, Edward. I wish so much that it was this time, but I just…" her voice breaks "…If you leave me again, it'll kill me. I'm not prepared to take that risk."_

_I barely comprehend her words. It doesn't make sense to me. How can she be saying that she can't live without me and yet be breaking up with me in the same breath? "So you're…?" Before I can finish the question, she's already beginning to fade. "Bella?" I can hear the fear in my own voice._

_"I'm sorry, Edward… I can't stay, just waiting for you to hurt me again. I love you…" Her voice takes on an ethereal quality as her body fades. "I love you…"_

_"No! Bella, stay. Please stay! Please…" But it's too late. I'm standing in the shower with only my misery to keep me company._

You knew she'd leave eventually, _a voice says. I look around for the source of the voice. _I'm you; there's no finding me except in yourself.

_"She left," I say miserably to the voice. "She's gone…" I feel tears flowing down my face, and I don't even care right now if that makes me less of a man. The pain is overwhelming, and I can't keep the emotion in._

Yes, she did. But can you really blame her?

_"No, I can't. That's the worst part. I can only blame myself."_

I agree; the fact that she was justified _is_the worst. All of this could have been prevented if you'd just talked to her back in high school.

_"I know. I know."_

Why did you believe Tanya, anyway?

_I shut my eyes tight, just wanting this to end. I want to open them and see Bella standing with me again, but I know she won't be. Instead, the worst kind of memory overtakes my senses, and I'm seventeen again, watching Bella kissing Mike Newton up against the shed at that fateful party - the party that both brought us together and drove us apart in one fell swoop, like some sort of wicked practical joke. "I saw her. I saw her with Mike, and he was supposed to be my friend. Him… and her… and Tanya knew the details. She said…"_

That's exactly right. She _said._

_"But she was making sense. I was stupid, and drunk, and there was no other explanation that I could see. What she was saying seemed logical…"_

If you believed what Tanya said, then you deserve this pain now. Do you hear me, Edward? Everything you're going through is your fault, Edward. No one to blame but yourself, Edward… Edward…

_"I know. I know…"_

"Edward? Edward, wake up. You're scaring me."

"I know. I know," I mumble.

"You know what? Come on, wake up. It's just a bad dream, Edward. I'm here for you. Wake up."

Slowly, so slowly, my mind clears, and my eyes open. _Just a bad dream. _"Bella?"

"Yes. I'm here, Edward. Always."

"Thank God," I mumble, pulling her close to me.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks tentatively.

"No. It's not that I'm keeping it from you; it was just my worst fear come true, and I don't really want to relive it." I kiss the top of her head, inhaling and memorizing her scent.

"Okay." She rests her head on my chest, and we lay there together for what feels like hours.

I don't honestly know how long we stay in the bed snuggling, but eventually, the ringing of my cell phone from the side table demands that I pay attention to something besides the beautiful woman in my arms, who by some miracle still wants to be with me after I once treated her like a second-class citizen. I pull the phone from the table and glance quickly at the caller ID. "Hey, Alice," I say, once I've lifted the phone to my ear.

"Hey yourself!" she squeals. "So, slight change of plan. Mom and Dad are going to a dinner party tonight—the Posts are hosting, and you know how Mrs. Post never plans for anything in advance—so I'm driving you guys to the airport!" She sounds abnormally excited for a four-hours-each-way drive.

"Okay, Alice, that's great," I say absentmindedly, running my fingers through Bella's hair. On some level, I think I'm still afraid that the dream was real—or could be real at some point in the future. I keep doing things to prove to myself that she's here now.

"What time is your flight?" Alice's voice breaks through my thoughts.

"Uh, I don't remember exactly. Ten something tonight."

"Okay. We'll leave at five then. That allows for the three hour car ride and gives you guys time to get your bags checked and stuff."

"Okay, sounds good, Alice."

"Oh, and Edward? I'm bringing a friend along. You know, so I don't have to drive home by myself."

"Sure thing."

"He's an alien from Mars. He has a green face and webbed hands."

"That's great, Ali."

"I knew it! You're not listening to a thing I say!"

I start to contradict her, but she's right. I've been paying more attention to Bella, who's looking at me, listening to my half of the conversation, running her fingertips over my face as if she's a blind woman exploring my appearance. I love it. "You're right. I'm sorry." I pull Bella's hand away from my face and hold it in my lap so that I can focus on my sister. "What were you saying?"

She sighs heavily as if I'm really putting her out by asking her to repeat herself. I know it's a ruse, though; even when she's saying the same thing over and over again, Alice loves to hear her own voice. "I said that I'll pick you up at five tonight, so make sure you're packed. And I'm bringing a friend with us so that I don't have to drive back alone tonight."

"Okay. Five o'clock, and you're bringing a friend. Got it."

"See you then, Edward. Love you."

"Love you, too, Ali." I disconnect the call and turn my attention back to Bella. "I guess I should pack my stuff since we're leaving in…" I look at the clock "…six hours."

"You haven't packed yet?" Bella exclaims.

I shake my head, smirking at her. "Honestly, though, it's not that much. Most of my stuff is still out there. It's just one suitcase that I'll be bringing back with us."

"Well, that makes sense then. So what do you want to do with the rest of the day?"

"Lay in bed with you." I grin at her.

**~SN~**

Alice is true to her word and pulls up in front of the cottage at four-fifty-five, driving my parents' large Mercedes. In the seat next to her is a blond guy I haven't met before, but I presume is Jasper—the guy she was out with last night while we were having dinner with the rest of my family. Alice bounds out of the car and bypasses me, hurrying over to Bella and hugging her tight.

"I'm just glad it worked out," Bella murmurs in Alice's ear. I suspect Alice just mentioned something about the interrupted wedding based on Bella's response.

Since Charlie's shipping Bella's boxes for her, there's just her suitcase and mine that we're bringing to the airport now. With those stowed safely in the trunk, Bella and I climb into the backseat of the Mercedes.

Alice slides into the driver's seat and starts the engine. Before she shifts the car into drive, however, she turns to face Bella and me. "Guys, this is Jasper." She grins from ear to ear, and her face looks like it's going to split in two; Alice is always happy, but she seems even more so right now, introducing her… what, boyfriend?... to us. "Jasper, this is my brother, Edward and his girlfriend, Bella."

"Nice to meet you," Jasper drawls—it's apparent that he's from somewhere in the deep south. "Alice has been raving about you." He sticks his hand over the back of the seat, and I take it.

"Likewise," I tell him, smiling. He has a good, firm handshake. "Well, about the pleasure to meet you bit. Alice hasn't told me a thing about you outside of your name."

"Well, it's not like you've given me much chance," she interjects. "Don't get me wrong, brother, because I don't blame you in the least, but you've been pretty preoccupied the past several months. First with the planning of the wedding, then with Bella." The way she moves from the wedding to Bella so seamlessly is fascinating to me.

I run one hand over the back of my neck. "Yeah, it's been a wild ride." I glance apologetically at Bella for Alice's lack of tact in bringing up the topic of the wedding.

She runs her thumb over the back of my hand, silently assuring me that it's okay.

We ride in comfortable silence for a few minutes until Alice just can't keep quiet any longer. "You're going to make a much better sister than Tanya would have, Bella."

"Alice!" I scold her, shocked by her bluntness. I'm not even surprised by her obvious hatred of Tanya; I'm more caught off guard by the fact that she's already decided that Bella and I are going to marry someday. I know it's a possibility, but it's not something I'm ready to think about just yet, considering it's only been two weeks.

"Well, it's true."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Alice, but it's really too soon to be saying something like that, don't you think? I mean, Edward and I have only been dating for two weeks now."

I smile as Bella's words echo my thoughts.

"That doesn't matter. You two were meant for each other. You're like peanut butter and jelly. One without the other just isn't as satisfying."

Jasper snickers from the front seat. If I knew him better, I'd call him on it, but frankly, his reaction isn't really that unreasonable; my sister just called me peanut butter. Or jelly, I'm not sure which. "Are we like peanut butter and jelly, too, darlin'?"

"I'm not sure yet." She reaches over and runs one hand through his hair. I catch her gaze in the rearview mirror, and the gleam in her eye tells me she's lying—she does see herself and Jasper as the same kind of soul mates she's just labeled Bella and me as.

"Hey, Alice?" Bella asks tentatively.

Alice changes lanes to pass a slow-moving semi. "Yeah?"

"Um, you saw me at the wedding, didn't you? I mean, before I stood up."

Alice turns her head quickly to smile at Bella then focuses on the highway in front of her again. "Yes, I did."

I knew this of course; I mentioned it to Alice the day of the wedding, so her response to Bella right now doesn't catch me off guard.

Alice continues, "I also knew that Tanya had specifically left her _off _of the guest list, so it was going to be interesting. I mean, you don't just show up at your… what, ex's? What the hell were you guys? Anyway, you don't show up uninvited to a wedding without a mission."

"You seemed happy to see me there, though."

"Of course I was." Alice laughs her high, tinkling laugh. "The rest of us knew that there was no talking Edward out of his decision, even though it was the wrong one. I also knew that you were the one person who'd be able to convince him that he was making a mistake. So, yeah, I was thrilled that you were there."

"Huh." Bella leans back in her seat, holding my hand as we approach the ferry.

Once on board, Alice and Jasper get out of the car to enjoy the sunset over the sound during the thirty-minute ride. Bella and I remain where we are. She unbuckles and scoots closer to me, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders. With her head resting in the crook of my shoulder, she asks, "Is that true? No one but me could have convinced you not to marry Tanya that day?" Because of her position, she's not facing me, and I suspect that's not entirely coincidental.

I think about her question for a few minutes, trying to come up with the right answer. There really isn't one. "Yes, it is. I'm not sure you've seen this quality yet, Bella, but I'm very stubborn. Once I make a decision, I don't back out of it lightly. Similarly, I try not to make snap decisions, either. I think through things and make the best choice for the time. Of course, all bets always seem to be off when it comes to you."

"And Tanya was the best choice for you at the time?"

I sigh. This is not a conversation I want to have, especially after all the emotion of last night. "Only because I thought you were gone forever." My voice is barely a whisper as I rotate her to face me and kiss her forehead.

Thankfully, she doesn't continue the conversation any further than that.

The rest of the trip is spent on less heavy topics—how Alice and Jasper met, what Bella's going to study at Dartmouth, her living arrangements—and before I know it, we're pulling up to SeaTac. Because of the new security regulations, it's easier for Alice to just drop us off at the front door than mess with parking and walking us in when she wouldn't be able to get past the gate anyway. "Thanks, Ali," I tell her once I've taken our suitcases from the trunk.

"Anytime, big brother." She stretches out of her open window to hug me. "Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?"

"I don't know yet. I hope so. But Christmas for sure."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you, too." I kiss her on the cheek. "It was nice meeting you, Jasper," I say as Alice resumes her position.

"Yeah, you too, Edward. Until next time, Bella." He tips an invisible hat our way.

As soon as Bella and I are on the sidewalk, Alice drives away.

Our flight leaves on time, and even though we slept in this morning, we both fall asleep in the air. I'm awoken by the captain's announcement that we're arriving. "Welcome to New Hampshire, folks. Local time is six-fifty-two in the morning, and it's a chilly forty-five degrees Fahrenheit. For those of you who slept through it, the sun's been up for nearly twenty minutes, and the skies are clear. We're exactly on schedule and will be landing in approximately ten minutes. Thank you for flying with us."

Bella's still fast asleep, leaning on my shoulder. She looks so peaceful that I hate to wake her, but ten minutes isn't very long, and even though it's early, it's not too early to be up for the day. The best way to beat jet lag is to live in the time zone you're currently in, not the one you just left, so it's important that we have a normal day today. I shake her gently, and she stirs. "Bella, it's time to wake up. We're nearly there," I whisper in her ear.

She stretches, and her eyes blink open. "Already? What time is it?"

"Almost seven."

She rubs her eyes. "We're actually in New Hampshire?" Her voice is some odd combination of sleepy and excited.

"Yes, we're in New Hampshire. Well, we will be as soon as the plane lands, anyway."

As if on cue, there's a slight bump as the landing gear comes in contact with the tarmac.

Once we retrieve our luggage from baggage claim, we make our way to long-term parking, where my leased Audi A7 is. Ice hits my veins as a terrible thought enters my mind: it's very possible Tanya's made it back here first and taken my car. Relief floods my system as the shiny black comes into view. "Thank God," I mutter, hitting the remote to unlock the doors. The lights flash and there's an audible _clunk _as the locks open.

"That's your car?" Bella sounds incredulous.

"Well, it's a lease. But yeah."

"It's really nice. Even nicer than the Volvo, which was pretty great."

"Meh. It gets me from place to place." I shrug.

"How can you be so cavalier about such a fancy car?"

"Well, don't get me wrong: it's a great car, but what I'd really like is a true sports car someday."

"Really? You don't seem the type."

I open her door and hold her hand while she sits. "Oh, yeah. I'd really love to have a car like Emmett's Vanquish someday. I love that car." I shut her door carefully and make my way around to the driver's side.

Conversation is slower as we drive because Bella's looking out the window, drinking in every detail she can of her new home. "So, we haven't really talked much about the short term plan. Classes don't start for a couple of days, so I'm guessing that means you won't be able to move into your dorm until at least tomorrow," I say. "I know we've talked about the long term plan, but are you opposed to staying at my place tonight? Don't feel obligated, of course; I'll get you a hotel room if you'd prefer—"

"Edward. Relax. I'm perfectly happy to stay with you tonight." She says this with what sounds like a sense of resolve. Sharing a bed at the cottage is one thing, but to have her sleeping in the same bed I shared with Tanya is very different. Honestly, it's a little weird for me. I consider stopping at Mattress Factory on the way to replace it, but that seems a little rash.

"Okay. I just have one stop to make on the way then." I pull into the Target that's just two blocks from my apartment.

"What are you getting here?" she asks as we climb out of the Audi.

"New sheets."

She blushes. "Ah."

An hour later, we're back in the car. While I'm morbidly curious as to what Tanya's done to my apartment, at the same time, I want to put it off as long as possible. Running my hand through my already-messy hair, I look over at Bella and ask, "Would you like to go grab some breakfast? There's this great little place just a few minutes from here. It's called 'The Pit Stop,' which doesn't sound great, but they have the best breakfast there." Seeing Mabel is just what I need before tackling whatever Tanya's left for me at home.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: A lot going on beneath the surface in this one. Next stop: Dartmouth. Please strap yourselves in and prepare for a bumpy ride...**

**As always, reviewers will receive a different special teaser not posted on teaser sites or our blogs. Thank you for reading!**

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**Sarita is working on her first novel. For information and updates you can follow her original fiction Twitter (at) SarahAisling**


	18. Chapter 16 You Fall, I Fall

**A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for your patience with updates. We present the chapter that was as painful as giving birth (well, almost), and Sarita takes full responsibility even though Yahoo played its part well. I just want to say that Wendy is the best collab partner ever and leave it at that. (Love you, Wendy!)**

**As always, thanks to Caz, Keye, and Sandy, our prereaders and friends, for all their valuable feedback and suggestions. Huge thanks to our beta, Jess (jkane180), for wielding that Sparkly Red Pen of hers.**

**Strap in, kiddies. ;-)**

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**Chapter 16**

**~You Fall, I Fall~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

After we leave Target, which is apparently only a few blocks from Edward's apartment, he asks if I want to go out to breakfast. Judging by the way he avoids looking my way and keeps running his hand through his already well-tousled hair, I suspect he's nervous about what we'll find when we arrive.

"There's this great little place a few minutes from here. It's called 'The Pit Stop,' which doesn't sound great, but they have the best breakfast there."

"Sounds great."

I decide to give Edward the time he needs to gather himself together. I can't imagine what it must feel like to be returning to the apartment you shared with your fiancée, wondering if your stuff might be destroyed, strewn over the front lawn, the locks changed, or—heaven forbid—she might be waiting for you when you arrived.

I spend most of the time looking out the car window, taking in the scenery. There's a combination of city-ish areas with stately looking buildings mixed with storefronts and park-like places with lots of green grass and lush trees. It must be dazzling here in the fall when all the leaves change.

'The Pit Stop' is on a busy downtown street surrounded by other storefronts. We score a parking place about half a block away and walk back holding hands. As we go, Edward points out a movie theater, coffee house, and bookstore. A few of the cafés have tables out on the sidewalk. The day is breezy and cool, and the wind ruffles my hair. I breathe deeply, sampling the air in my new town, with my old-yet-new boyfriend. Life is good. There may be challenges ahead, but life is definitely good.

"Bella?" Edward turns to look at me with a crooked smile. "You coming in, or do you plan to stand out on the sidewalk all day?"

"Just taking it all in. Let's eat."

When we enter the greasy spoon, it doesn't look like anything special: worn yellow linoleum floor, sparkly red vinyl covering the cushy booths and padded stools that line the counter, which is white with gold speckles.

Edward looks at me askance. "I know what you're thinking, but soon you're going to adore this place as much as I do—trust me."

"Well, look what the wind blew in!"

Startled, I look up. Behind the counter is a jolly black woman in a pale yellow waitress uniform, her eyes trained on our joined hands.

"Hey, Mabel. Good to see you." Edward leads me closer to the counter.

"Where you been, young man? And who is this lovely lady? You ain't never brought no girls in here! I guess you really don't love me." She cackles good naturedly with a wave of her hand.

"You always have a place in my heart, Mabel. This lovely lady is my girlfriend, Bella. Bella, this is Mabel, the owner of this awesome establishment."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mabel."

"Same here, Miss Bella." She turns a critical eye on Edward. "Where you been hiding this one? She's a pretty little thing."

"Um... it's a long story. Let's just say we have a second chance at love, and Bella has transferred to Dartmouth, so you'll be seeing her much more often."

"Mm-hm. You two are perfect for each other. Mabel knows these things. Have a seat, and I'll get you some menus."

We settle into a corner booth by the windows, where we can see everyone coming and going on the sidewalk outside. This place is certainly an eye-opener after living in Forks, and it's completely different from Florida as well, which is far more casual. Even though it's a weekend, there are people rushing by either texting or with their phones pressed up to their ears. A gaggle of teenagers passes by, all clumped together, and I can hear the squeals of laughter as they all concentrate on the screen of one girl's cell phone. A lot of cars go by, too, which makes me think we did good snagging a parking place only a half a block away.

Edward rubs his thumb over my knuckles absently, and when I look back at him, I find him watching me intently.

"What?" I ask, blushing scarlet.

"Nothing, really... I just love watching you. You look at everything with such wonder."

"Well, this is all new to me! I'm fascinated by the sheer amount of activity here."

Mabel steps up next to the table to take our order, and I haven't even looked at the menu yet.

"Oh, I'm sorry... I was too busy looking out the window." My blush deepens, my face scalding hot.

"Bella, try the Pecan French Toast. It's to die for," Edward suggests.

"Yeah? Okay, Pecan French Toast it is, and a hot tea, please."

"Good choice. And for you, handsome?" Mabel turns her flirty gaze on Edward; it's obvious she adores him.

"I'll have the same." He winks at Mabel, and she titters all the way back behind the counter.

"Should I be jealous?" I ask with a barely-concealed smile.

"Very. Unless you can cook better than Mabel... I spend a lot of time here."

"Really? Then why doesn't she know about Tanya?" I ask, confused.

Edward looks down at the table and smiles sadly. "Tanya would never come in here. I tried to get her to one time, but she pitched a fit. She said it was a 'dump,' and she'd 'rather forage in the woods for food.'"

"My God... she's really the ultimate prima donna, isn't she?" I shake my head. "You're so down to earth, Edward; I just don't see the draw between you two."

Edward looks like a deer caught in headlights, and he glances out the window; although, by the unfocused look in his eyes, I suspect he's not seeing anything at all out there. His mouth opens, closes, and then opens again. I feel slightly guilty for putting him on the spot, but I'm just astounded by the things he's told me about Tanya over the past few weeks and the obvious sacrifices he's made to be with her. She hated the cottage, he hadn't been back to those charming ruins, Tanya wouldn't like this or approve of that...

"Bella..." Edward takes my hand in his and looks down at the table while he struggles with what he wants to say. "Shit. I kept trying to be good enough for Tanya. She had this way of making me feel inadequate without actually coming out and saying it. But it's my fault... for allowing it. She had the upper hand from minute one when she found me..." Edward's words drift off, his ears flushing red.

"Found you?" I question, cocking my head to the side.

His hand tightens painfully on mine, his other running through his hair nervously. His eyes flutter closed, and he cringes. "_That_ night. Tanya found me doubled over after I saw you... with Mike."

All the air goes out of my lungs, and I feel like I was just punched in the stomach. "What?" I whisper. "I knew you saw me with Mike, but I didn't realize... _She_ was there, too?"

"Yeah. Tanya followed me out from Mike's kitchen. In fact, she tried to detain me when it was time for me to meet you. Now I realize that she was setting it all up, so I would be sure to find you and... _him..._ making out. She conveniently showed up to comfort me... God, I was so _stupid_!" He bangs a clenched fist down on the table, causing our silverware to jump.

A throat clears, and I look up to see Mabel standing next to the table with our food. Placing the plates in front of us, she shoots Edward a pointed look and winks at me as she walks away. I don't know if it's because he banged on the table or because she has an intuition with regard to what's happening between us, but the momentum and intensity of our conversation has been disturbed.

Now that the spell is broken, I put some sugar and creamer into my tea, and Edward starts cutting up his French toast. The tips of his ears are still red, and he seems very uncomfortable.

While I stir my tea, I try to tamp down the anger that surges through me. Is there no end to the fucked up things Tanya has done or will do to keep Edward and me apart?

"Edward, she's a vile human being. Did you really not see this?" I hiss.

"I – I kept making excuses for her. She was there for me when... when I thought you betrayed me. There was nobody else I was willing to share my pain with, and she seemed so sympathetic. This is all on me; I know that. I overlooked too much."

"Tanya was never too good for you—she never had a chance at being good enough. But I have to tell you the truth, Edward: I'm a little bit concerned about your judgment. I mean, would you believe lies about me again?"

"No! Bella, no. I was eighteen and devastated. I'll never be able to convey to you how much it destroyed me when I saw..." Edward shakes his head then lifts his eyes to meet mine, his gaze earnest. "I was so vulnerable, and she took full advantage of it. Hindsight is twenty/twenty, but at the time, I believed she was a good person, that she was there for me when you... well, when I _thought_ you weren't."

"God, Edward. This is just... what a travesty." I shake my head as what Tanya's really capable of hits home harder than ever. Even as a senior in high school, she was able to pull off her plans and win Edward over—going so far as to make it all the way to the altar. Hell, if I hadn't stepped in... they'd be married right now. "How can I compete against her?"

"_Compete_? There's no competition between you! There never was. If she and Mike hadn't interfered, I never would have given her a second look; not if I had you by my side. Bella, can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Edward. It's not as if you knew the truth, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not concerned about what she might do next. Surely you know that she's going to try and get you back?"

"Bella, I'm going to make a promise to you right now. I will never believe another word Tanya says. If something comes up, even if it doesn't seem to be related to her, I'll talk to you first. Full disclosure and complete trust—that's what we need to make this work. I'll never make assumptions about you again." Edward strokes my cheek gently with the back of his knuckles. "Please tell me you believe me," he whispers.

"I believe you."

And I do.

It's going to take me time to believe Tanya can't separate us, but I'm determined to do everything in my power to keep history from repeating itself.

An hour later, Edward pulls onto Wilson Street and maneuvers into a parking spot along the curb. Although it's just a few blocks from the hustle and bustle, it's a quiet street. There are brownstones and apartment buildings lining both sides. In front of most dwellings are large trees, which are surrounded by sidewalk with the exception of a circular break surrounding the trunks. It seems so odd to see trees so perfectly spaced out along the curbs, bursting forth from the concrete. After living in Forks, where trees and other plant life are abundant, this is an eye-opener.

"Wow. There are trees growing out of the concrete."

Edward laughs. "Yeah, I had a hard time with that one, too. I'm used to this concrete jungle by now, but it makes me kind of sad to be so removed from nature." Leaning forward, he points to a brick building with white trim around the windows that's several stories tall. "There's my building. I'm on the second floor."

"It looks like a nice place."

"I like it here a lot. It's not like being in Forks, but my apartment has a balcony overlooking the small flower garden out back." Edward grips my hand tightly in his. "I'm sort of afraid of what Tanya may have done to my apartment. Do you want to wait here or come in with me?"

"I'd like to come in now, unless you'd rather I didn't."

"No, of course I want you to come in."

Grabbing his suitcase and my duffel from his trunk, Edward takes my hand in his and leads me to the front door. The left side of the foyer is lined with small, locked boxes that have apartment numbers on them. The floor is a mosaic of octagon-shaped tiles that are primarily white with designs in black, green and burgundy. Edward flips through his keys until he comes up with a small gold one, which he inserts into the lock of the mailbox for 2G. There's a small pile of mail, which he tucks under his arm before unlocking the inner door.

Inside, the floors are highly polished hardwood; there are apartments lining the hall, an elevator is tucked away against the back wall, and before us is a wide staircase with gleaming mahogany banisters. As we start up the steps, I look up and see many levels spiraling around and around, and I giggle, causing Edward to glance at me quizzically.

"What's funny?"

"It's going to sound silly... but I've only seen stairways that go around and around like this in scary movies. You know—when someone is being chased, and they always run _up_ the stairs instead of down?"

Edward chuckles. "I thought the same exact thing the first time I saw this place. I hate to admit it, but I was a little creeped out my first few weeks here, especially late at night."

It makes me feel better to hear Edward admit this, and I happily follow him to apartment 2G. I'm somewhat relieved that he's only on the second floor, although I'm not about to tell him that.

The door is the second one over from the top of the stairs, and Edward draws in a deep breath as he stands before it. "Here goes nothing..."

Edward unlocks the door and opens it, stepping in quickly. Dropping our bags in the foyer, he strides deeper into the apartment, and when I don't hear any expletives, I tentatively step in, closing the door behind me.

There's a small table against the wall in the foyer with a dish, where Edward placed his keys as he passed, and a candle in a glass jar set on a lace doily. Moving farther into the apartment, I find myself in a living room with a brown leather couch and loveseat grouped around a smoked glass and metal coffee table. There's a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, surrounded by an entertainment center that includes a stereo system and shelves holding DVDs, CDs, books, and knickknacks. The living room has a wide archway that opens into a dining room with a large bow window. There is a breakfast bar to the right, looking onto a small kitchen. Edward is leaning on the breakfast bar with a piece of paper in his hand, his expression unreadable.

I don't see any visible damage around me, so I move closer to him, noticing a hallway that runs along the kitchen that I presume leads to the bathroom and bedrooms. Sweeping my eyes over the walls, I notice a few pieces of artwork and some picture-frames holding photos of the Cullens, but none of them include Edward and Tanya.

"Well, I'll be damned," he mutters, shaking his head.

"What is it?"

"Take a look at this." Edward hands me the piece of paper in his hand.

_Edward,_

_I know you don't want me here, so I took the liberty of arriving early to move my things out. Your key is in the envelope on the counter._

_I hope being back here in our place reminds you of all the good times we've shared: fun evenings spent with friends around the table, watching a movie together... nights spent together in our bed. I miss you, and I miss us. I have to believe that you'll come to your senses eventually and ask me to come home._

_I love you,_

_T_

I swallow thickly at the thought of all that they shared. But wasn't that the point? Tanya wanted Edward to relive those moments in the hopes he would realize he made a mistake choosing me over her. It was ingenious, really.

"Wow, that's a new tactic, huh?" I remark scathingly.

"Yeah, she's unbelievable. I'm just... shocked that she moved out. I really thought I was in for the fight of my life." Edward glances around him. "It looks like she took all the pictures of us together, her CDs and books, and a few trinkets. I'm guessing I'll find her clothes gone from our closet, too."

_Our __closet._ The words burn me like acid.

Edward steps toward me, grabbing my hand and holding it against his heart. "You're the only woman _here_, Bella. The only woman that matters to me." Moving in closer, he cradles my face in his hands, and I leave my hand resting on his chest. "If I had my way, you wouldn't be moving into those dorms. I want you right here with me every night," he whispers, leaning in to touch his lips to mine.

Under my hand, I can feel his heart thudding in his chest, and mine raps back in answer. His lips move over mine slowly, and I forget all the feelings of jealousy and insecurity I was feeling just a moment ago. When I'm kissing Edward, everything else falls away.

"Are you okay?" he asks, pulling back to look into my eyes.

"Yeah. I suppose I'll have to develop a thick skin, especially when people around campus start hearing conflicting accounts and then see you with me."

"I'm sure there will be some uncomfortable moments, but we'll get through it. Are you sure you want to stay at the dorms?"

"Yes. That's something I feel I need to do for now, Edward. I'm not saying never, but I want to get acclimated first. Let's just play it by ear, okay?"

"Deal." Edward swipes the small white envelope off the counter, fishing out a key. "Here. This belongs to you now, just like my heart does," he says, placing the key in my palm and closing my fingers around it.

"Are you sure? You don't have to give me – "

"I'm sure," Edward interrupts. "You're welcome here any time, day or night."

"Okay. Thanks."

Edward offers to show me the rest of the apartment. Heading down the hallway, he points out a bedroom converted into a home office, a bathroom, and a master bedroom which has an en suite. Like the rest of the house, the bedroom is done mainly in neutrals, which surprises me since Tanya seems to have a 'louder' personality. When I ask, Edward informs me that he lived here on his own for a while before asking Tanya to move in.

"She was always spending the night, more and more of her stuff was left here, and it just seemed like the next step. Tanya would choose a more colorful décor, that's true, but she never pushed it with the exception of the bedding."

_How fitting._

The bed is adorned with a red, white, and beige print comforter and has plump red pillows at the head. It does seem more Tanya's style than Edward's.

Edward puts my duffel on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed before opening the door to a walk-in closet. More than half of the pole along the wall is full of empty hangers, and the other portion is filled with Edward's clothing. There's a small shoe rack with three pairs of men's shoes and _four_ empty racks.

"Four racks of shoes?" I whisper, incredulous.

"Yes, four. The girl has shoes in every color, for every occasion. It boggles the mind. You can see how little space I had in this closet." Edward laughs.

I start to picture filling Edward's closet with _my_ things, and my cheeks flush. I turn away, so he won't see. It's far too soon to be taking a step that big—it's enough that I transferred to Dartmouth.

The rest of the day is just plain fun. Edward shows me around the campus at Dartmouth—it's _huge _in comparison to Florida State, and I feel intimidated. He assures me that I'll be an expert in no time. We pass by 'Delaney Hall,' which is where I'll be living. It's a large brick building fairly close to both the Student Center and Dining Hall. We stop in to see if my dorm-mate Becca is in, but she hasn't returned from break yet. As we walk along the pathways edging expanses of green grass and large old trees that will offer shelter once their leaves come in, all I can picture in my mind is how beautiful it will look in the fall.

Edward brings me by the athletic fields—where once upon a time he played football—and has a lot of fun chasing me down after I challenge him to a race. I cheat terribly, running about twenty feet before throwing down the gauntlet, but Edward starts to catch up quickly. I squeal in terror, knowing he's gaining on me, and I trip, taking a tumble into the soft grass. Rolling on my back, I look up at the blue sky. A few seconds later, Edward is straddling my hips, breathing hard.

"Caught you, beautiful." He winks at me, leaning forward to pin my arms beside my head. "What should I do with you now?"

"If you can't figure _that_ out, I'm not going to help you," I answer coyly.

"Are you hoping I'll steal some kisses, Bella?" he asks, bringing his lips so close to mine I can feel a light vibration tingle them.

When I don't answer, he ghosts his lips along my jaw and down my neck, causing goosebumps of pleasure to rise all over my skin.

"Or are you hoping I steal a few bases?" he breathes, slipping a hand under my shirt to cup a breast.

I moan low in my throat. Does he have any idea what he does to me? I have the urge to rip our clothes off right here on the field.

"Isn't that baseball, Edward?"

"What?" He raises his head, shooting me a quizzical look.

"Stealing bases. We're on the football field."

"You!" He laughs, lowering his mouth to mine, and we roll in the grass and get frisky for a while, keeping it PG. Mostly.

When we get back to Wilson Street, it's nearing dinner time, and we're both ravenous. Edward orders from a local Chinese place that delivers, and we chow down in the living room while watching _Avatar_. The movie's good, but it's too long for my tired peepers, and I fall asleep with my head in Edward's lap while his fingers run absently through my hair.

Sometime later, I wake up in Edward's bed with his warm body wrapped securely around mine, our legs tangled together, and I wonder how I will give _this_ up to live in a dorm room after tomorrow.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

As soon as I realize that Bella's asleep, I turn the movie off. It's late, and I'm pretty tired myself, but I'd rather sleep in the bed than slumped over on the couch.

I carefully work my way out from under her, kiss her once, and make my way back to the foyer to pick up the bag from Target. Well, _bags_. I realized once we got there that simply changing the sheets wouldn't be good enough, so I bought a new fleece blanket, bedspread, and pillows, too. As I pass through the kitchen, I grab the roll of white plastic garbage bags. Simply washing the sheets that I shared with Tanya won't be good enough. They have to go.

The bedroom looks exactly the way I left it three weeks ago—queen bed underneath the window, beige paint on the walls—along with prints of a couple of my favorite famous paintings (Van Gogh's _The_ _Starry__ Night_ and Monet's _Red __Boats __at__ Argenteuil_). The bed looks undisturbed; it's still covered with the ruby red sheets and red, white, and beige comforter. It's too bad that the set is now tainted with memories of Tanya; it was a nice set. Never my favorite, but nice enough that it'll be a shame to throw it away. But I know that to get the fresh start Bella and I need, keeping the bed set that Tanya chose is out of the question.

I strip the bed, depositing everything—pillows still in their cases, the quilted comforter, and both sheets—into three large garbage bags, which I tie shut and place on the floor near the door. Opening the smallest of the bags from Target, I pull out the sheet set; it's blue and brown striped, which I wasn't a huge fan of at first, but as Bella and I browsed the various sets, it eventually became my favorite. I make quick work of the bed, and then return to the bags, taking out the four new pillows. I cover two of them in the cases that came with the sheet set, and two more in plain, chocolate brown cases. That was Bella's idea; I was just going to buy more of the striped ones, but she thought it might be too busy and talked me into the plain ones. With all four pillows now on the bed, I'm glad I listened to her. Next is the comforter. It's reversible—one side matches the sheets while the other side matches the brown cases. When I put it striped-side-up, the effect is horrendous, so I quickly flip it over, and it's much better.

I reenter the living room and see that Bella's still sleeping soundly. Very carefully, I pick her up; she nuzzles into my chest immediately, and I like it. Once I've laid her down on the bed, I carefully remove her shoes, socks, and jeans, and then cover her up before quickly stripping down to my boxer briefs and climbing in beside her. I hold her close, breathing in the scent of her hair as I fall into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

It feels like mere seconds later that I wake up to a wide awake Bella watching me. "Morning," I rasp.

"Morning. I hope you don't mind, but I just wanted to watch you sleep for a while."

"It's okay," I say. "I'm glad you want to be with me, even if it's painful for you here."

"How do you know it's painful for me?" she questions.

"I can see it in your eyes. Especially before, when I said 'our closet.' Your face fell, and it was obvious what you were thinking. I'm sorry I put it that way. Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Yeah, they do," she murmurs into my chest, and there's deeper meaning behind her words.

I want to apologize again, but I don't; not this time. It's a rough situation, but if I apologize every time Bella sees something that reminds either of us of Tanya, I'll never utter another word as long as we're in New Hampshire—maybe as long as I'm alive. And that's no way to go through life. I won't begrudge her the feelings—ever—but there's going to have to be some give and take. It's true that I made a terrible lapse of judgment four years ago, but there's also no changing the past. I'll do everything I can to earn—and keep—her trust from here on out instead.

We spend the morning showering—separately—and then finish up _Avatar._ By the time the film's over, it's about lunchtime. Because I know we'll both be busy with school in just a couple of days, I want to give Bella a proper introduction to Hanover, so I quickly do a mental inventory of the city, thinking over some of the attractions here. It's mostly shopping, and I know that's not really her thing. Then an image of the large white building with blue letters flashes through my mind, and I know that's where I want to take her.

"How does a date day sound? We'll go to lunch, and I know exactly where to take you after that."

She perks up. "What is it?"

"A surprise." I smirk at her.

"I hate surprises." She pouts.

"I know, but humor me this time?"

She eyes me speculatively. "Fine," she finally concedes.

"What sounds good for lunch?" I ask her fifteen minutes later as we step out into the bright spring afternoon.

"Hm… Pizza." She looks all around, as if trying to find a pizzeria.

"Good choice. We don't even have to drive to get to the best place in town." I lead her through the streets of Hanover to Jim's Pizzeria—yet another place Tanya wouldn't set foot in. We did order in from Jim's on occasion, though. The walk takes all of five minutes, and when I open the door and Bella steps in, she moans.

"Oh, my goodness. It smells heavenly in here."

"Believe me, it tastes even better than it smells."

"Then I'm in for a treat." She grins.

We get in line to place our order, and I realize that I have no idea what kind of pizza Bella likes. I hate that there are so many simple things about her that I still don't know. "Er, what kinds of toppings do you like on your pizza?" I ask.

"Anything but mushrooms." She wrinkles her nose. "I hate those nasty little suckers."

"Really? I love them."

"Gross." She shudders.

I order us Jim's special—salami, sausage, pepperoni, olives, and green peppers—and we sit in the back corner of the restaurant, away from the lunch crowd that's quickly gathering. Conversation is minimal; we simply enjoy being in each other's presence. One of my favorite employees here, Chris (a fellow Dartmouth business student, though he's a couple of years behind me), brings our pie when it's ready. "Good to see you, Edward," he says, setting the pizza down and reaching out to shake my hand.

I grasp his and return the greeting. "You, too, man. It's good to be back."

"This the missus?" he asks, smiling at Bella.

She flushes.

"Oh, er, no. Long story."

"Shit, I'm sorry." He looks embarrassed. Gazing at Bella, he apologizes to her. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"It's okay," she says quietly.

I flash him a look that I hope says 'I'll explain later.' Verbally, I say, "Thanks for bringing the pie out, man. You didn't have to do that." The restaurant's policy is to call the name of the order over the loudspeaker and have you pick up your pizza at the counter.

"It's no problem. I just wanted to say hi."

"Cool. I'm glad you did." A glance at Bella tells me that she's _not_ glad he did.

"I'll see you later, man."

"Sure thing." He walks away, still looking ashamed of his faux pas.

"I'm sorry about that, beautiful," I tell her when Chris has gone. "He honestly didn't know. He just knew that I was engaged, but Tanya didn't want anything to do with this place either, and since she's in a different major, he never really saw us together around school." I reach across the table and grasp her hand, lifting it to my mouth and brushing my lips across her knuckles. "He really is a nice guy."

"I'm sure he is. I can understand the mix-up." She still looks disturbed that it happened in the first place.

I sigh, feeling horrible about how this is going. If things like this keep happening, she's not going to want anything to do with Dartmouth, New Hampshire, or me.

We eat pizza until neither of us can handle another bite, and I get a to-go box for the leftovers; Jim's pizza is just as good, if not better, cold as it is hot, so I always over-order on purpose.

"What next?" she asks as we walk back to the street where my car's parked.

"Nice try," I reply, laughing.

"Eh, it was worth a shot." She grins, and I'm glad that she seems to have put Chris' comments behind her.

"I will tell you this: bring your gloves."

"My gloves?"

"Yep. And that's the only hint you're getting."

After going inside just long enough to put the pizza in the fridge, we get in the car and drive to the neighboring town of West Lebanon. It's less than five miles, and the drive takes under ten minutes. I keep one eye on the road and one eye on Bella as we get closer to our destination. When we pull into the parking lot and she reads the big blue words on the white building that I'd imagined earlier—_Campion__ Ice__ Skating__ Rink__—_her eyes bulge.

"Is that really what's in there?" she asks, awed.

"Yeah. I thought it would be something fun to do today."

"I've never been ice skating before."

"I don't come often, but it's pretty fun." I pull the car nose in to one of the open spots.

"Is it hard?"

"The skating or the ice?" I smirk.

"Oh, jeez. I didn't even think about the ice."

"It takes a bit of time to figure it out, but once you get the hang of it, I think you'll really like it."

"What if I fall?"

We're walking up to the door now. "Oh, you'll fall."

She blanches.

"It's really not that bad, Bella. I'll hold you the whole time if you want. You fall, I fall." I smile at her.

"Er… okay." She still looks nervous.

I pay our fee and get two pairs of rental skates. We change out of our shoes and make our way over to the ice. Bella looks absolutely petrified.

"It's okay, beautiful. I'll keep hold of you the entire time. And we'll stick close to the wall. It'll be fun. Come on." I gently guide her onto the ice, letting her have the wall side. There are loads of people here today since it's the end of Spring Break, but not so many that it'll be hazardous to be out there.

We move slowly. Bella keeps one gloved hand on the wall and one in mine, holding it tightly. She's actually pretty funny to watch because she's more walking than skating, but I don't tease her. I know as she gets comfortable, she'll loosen up, and we'll pick up the pace.

Halfway around our second revolution, I move my hand out of hers and around her waist instead, hoping that'll help her feel more secure. It's another two rounds before she's comfortable letting go of the wall and sliding her feet. When she does, the increase in our speed is noticeable immediately. I smile as we move.

Not two seconds later, my ass hits the cold, hard ice. I didn't even see it coming.

"Ouch!" Bella cries, having fallen at the same time.

"Yeah, ow," I agree. "It's okay, though. Scoot carefully to the wall, and use it to brace yourself as you stand."

She obeys my instructions—the 'scoot' part was mostly unnecessary as we never ventured more than eighteen inches from the wall anyway—and carefully gets to her feet.

"Are you okay?" I ask, and my question is twofold: I want to make sure she's not too badly injured and that she wants to keep going.

Facing the wall and gripping it with one hand, she runs her other over her now-wet behind, testing its soreness. "Yeah, I'm good," she says a moment later, looking over her shoulder at me and grinning. "You fell with me." Her expression is one of gratitude as group after group of more confident skaters passes us.

"I told you I would. 'You fall, I fall,'" I remind her. Her eyes widen, and it's only then that I recognize the double entendre behind my words. Yes, I was talking just about the ice skating when I said it, but now I realize that those same words can be taken beyond their face value and applied to all aspects of our relationship. If either of us falls—physically, emotionally, or otherwise—the other will follow, helping to pick up the pieces. I glide the twelve inches over to her and press my mouth to hers, expressing my desire to fall with her and pick up her pieces—and have her pick up mine—through the kiss.

We skate for another hour and fall several more times. Sometimes it's me who trips, and sometimes it's her. Every time, we go down together, and I know that there's no one I'd rather sit on a huge sheet of ice with than Bella.

On the drive back, she asks tentatively, "Would you mind if I stopped by my dorm on the way back? To see if Becca's arrived yet?"

"Of course not. Do you want me to come with you?"

"Are men allowed in the dorms?"

"Hm. Good point. I never lived in the dorm, so I can't honestly answer that, but I suspect probably not. Why don't we drop me off at home, and you take my car? That way you can take your time getting done whatever you need to, and then you just come over when you're ready. You already have a key, so just let yourself in when you get back. When I get the locks changed, I'll replace your key for you."

"That sounds good." She smiles. "Except…"

"Except?"

"Well, it's only my second day here. I don't actually remember where the college is in relation to your apartment."

"Oh." I laugh. "No worries. I'll drive you over, teach you the most direct route, and you'll be all set."

"Okay."

With a simple route from Dartmouth to my place memorized, Bella's comfortable making the short trip alone. I kiss her as she adjusts the driver's seat in my Audi. "Drive safely," I murmur against her lips.

"I will. I'll be back in a couple of hours at the outside."

"I'll miss you."

She smiles. "I'll miss you, too."

I peck her mouth one more time and make my way over the sidewalk. I watch as she drives back the way I showed her.

Back in my apartment, I poke around, looking for anything Tanya may have left behind. Anything she bought during the four-year relationship—I shudder at the word—is gone. I'm honestly impressed at her thoroughness. Making my way back to the master bedroom, I see the three large garbage bags of bedding that I need to dispose of. I want that done before Bella gets back, so I take them immediately and make my way out to the trash chute.

I'm on my way back when I notice the door to 2F open. I don't mean to look inside someone else's apartment, but something in there catches my eye—a painting exactly like one I have in my apartment. Or did, until whenever Tanya moved out, anyway. I slow, examining the artwork. I know it's possible—likely even—that it's a coincidence, but I just can't shake the feeling that something sinister is about to happen. Not only is that painting in there (not hung up yet), but there are loads of boxes all over the floor. It's apparent that someone's just moved in. I don't even realize that I've done more than just slow—I've completely stopped and am staring inside the apartment—until a blonde comes out into the corridor.

My blood runs cold.

"Edward!" Tanya coos, hurrying over to me. "Fancy meeting you here." She grins at me like we're old friends and wraps her arms around me in a hug that reeks of familiarity.

"What the fuck are you doing in there, Tanya?" I ask through gritted teeth, not returning the embrace.

"I live here, silly."

I push her away roughly. "What the hell do you mean, 'you live here'?" I'm livid. I honestly can't remember a time when I was angrier. Even finding out that she'd racked up charges on my credit card doesn't compare to this. 'Taking her things and moving out' surely doesn't count if she's moved into the apartment right next to mine.

"Are the words confusing? I. Live. Here. As in, this is now my residence." She somehow manages to say demeaning words in a friendly tone, but my response is anything but friendly.

"Damn it, Tanya! All the apartments in the fucking city, and you pick _this _one?"

"It was close to both school and the place I was moving out of." She smirks, looking smug.

I'm literally shaking with rage. There are no words that can properly express the emotions running through my body, and I'm tense, knowing that this is the worst possible thing that could have happened.

I hear footsteps on the stairs, and Bella emerges a few seconds later. Her face brightens when she sees me then immediately falls when she sees my expression.

_Fuck.__ I__ was__ wrong._This _is__ the __worst __possible__ thing__ that __could__ have__ happened._ I would've liked to have the chance to tell her that my goddamn ex-fiancée thought it would be cute to move in right next door to me, but that's shot to hell now that Tanya, Bella, and I are all in the hallway. Bella follows my angry gaze, and out of my peripheral vision, I see her eyes pop when she sees Tanya.

"What's going on here?"

* * *

**A/N: Looks like there might be a hoedown in the next chapter. What do you think? Theories? We're definitely getting into the thick of the story.**

**Check out Wendy's solo story _Music__ of __the__ Heart_. I'm her beta, so I've read ahead a bit, and things are heating up! Love her Edward—he has just a touch of Dom about him. Licks lips.**

**Sarita would also like to rec another story this week that has _too __few__ reviews_. It's _Perchance __to__ Dream_ by NJTB (AKA BoubieD on Twitter). Delish AH story that makes my mouth water. Let her know that Sarita sent you. *wink***

**Sarita is working on an entry for the Season of Our Discontent anonymous angst contest and also has posted the first chapter of _Red __Kryptonite_. Details on RK on this profile. She's also working on her first novel, _The__ Weight __of__ Roses_.**

**Follow us on Twitter!**

**(at) SaritaDreaming or (at) SarahAisling (for original fiction)**

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	19. Chapter 17 Taking a Stand

**A/N: Hey guys! We're back with another action packed chapter.**

**As always, thanks to Caz, Keye, and Sandy, our prereaders and friends, for all their valuable feedback and suggestions. A huge welcome to our newest beta, Perry (Perrymaxed), who has just signed on and did a wonderful job with this chapter. It's so hard to find a beta when you _are _one, and Perry has already fit in quite nicely.**

**As far as drama goes... no end in sight. Just the way you like it, we hope.**

* * *

**Chapter 17**

**~Taking a Stand~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

After leaving Edward back at the apartment, I embark on the short drive back to Dartmouth. I feel like a fish out of water, much the way I did when I arrived in Florida. This, though, is completely different than anywhere else I've been. I think I can learn to like it, especially if Edward and I are together.

I feel giddy when I think about him. Despite the insecurities I have about us, I'm extremely hopeful about our future. He's been so caring and understanding. Maybe this sounds a little bit sexist, but I'm impressed he shed tears in front of me. There aren't many men who feel comfortable enough to cry in front of their woman.

After I find the parking lot for Delaney Hall, I move to get out of the car and realize that my ass really hurts. While we were skating, I fell so many times I felt intimately acquainted with the hard polished surface of the ice. Edward was a trooper, falling with me each and every time without complaint. When he said, 'You fall, I fall,' it really struck a chord with me—I realize he was talking about skating, but I also know he's fully committed to us, that he'll do whatever is necessary to solidify our relationship.

Stepping out of Edward's Audi, I walk carefully, favoring my sore posterior and left hip. The sun is low in the sky, and I find the front of Delaney Hall bathed in long shadows, the sun's rays bursting from behind it creating a halo effect. It makes for an ominous sight since the front door is cloaked in darkness. _God, Bella, just go inside, and stop creeping yourself out!_

Opening the heavy wooden door, I enter the building. Beyond the foyer, there's a common area with groupings of furniture. Off to the left is a small office with the lights on. I poke my head in, where a woman sits behind a desk.

Knocking on the doorjamb, I say, "Hello? I'm here to check in to my room."

The woman looks up with a welcoming expression. She appears to be in her mid-forties with a mop of reddish hair in large, loose curls and is dressed professionally. "You must be Isabella. Welcome to Delaney Hall." She stands up, holding her hand out. "I'm Priscilla Morris, the dorm den mother. You can just call me Cilla; everybody does."

She has a warm, firm handshake and gives off a positive vibe. I'm not sure what I expected from a dorm chaperone—an ogre that was a stickler for policies and ruled with an iron fist maybe—but Cilla seems to be a breath of fresh air.

"It's nice to meet you, Cilla. Please call me Bella; I'm only called Isabella when I do something wrong."

Cilla laughs. "I hear you. Bella it is then." Coming around the desk, she motions me to follow her out of the office.

We head over to a large counter near the common area behind which are rows of mailboxes for all residents. Cilla steps in back and unlocks a drawer, pulling out a key and a large brown envelope. "Okay, Bella. Here's your key and welcome packet, which includes all the rules and regs. We're fairly easygoing around here as long as the rules are respected. You're going to be in 4B with Becca Turner. She just checked back in from Spring Break a few hours ago, so this is a great time to meet her. Becca is a lovely young woman; I think you'll get along great."

"Thanks." I accept the key and envelope from her. "I was hoping to meet Becca while I'm here."

Cilla leads me to an elevator, pointing out the nearby stairs as we pass them. The fourth floor has wide hallways carpeted in thick burgundy pile that hushes our footsteps. When we get to 4B, which is three doors down from the elevator, Cilla knocks on the door.

"Coming!" a voice calls out from inside.

A few moments later the door opens, and a young woman peeks out through the crack.

"Hello, Becca. Your new roommate is here."

Becca opens the door wider, a welcoming smile on her face. "Awesome!" She has a baby-face with rosy, chubby cheeks and a smattering of freckles dusting across her upturned nose. Her light brown hair is slightly frizzy with loose, unruly curls.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted. It was great to meet you, Bella."

"You, too, Cilla. Thank you."

When Cilla turns away, Becca moves back, gesturing for me to come in. "Hi, Bella! I'm so excited that you're here. I think I'm the only one without a roommate around here that actually wants one. Oh, and your boxes arrived earlier."

"Oh, good. I was afraid I might be putting someone out by showing up this late."

"Well, take a look around. It's not a palace, but it's pretty darn nice for dorms. We each have our own private room, there's the sitting room, and a kitchenette against the wall to your left. There's an adjoining bathroom that connects to our rooms."

"Wow! I'm not sure exactly what I expected—probably a little shoebox with two beds and a hot plate." I giggle, and Becca joins me.

"I had the same image before I got here, but this is Dartmouth—I don't think they _have_ shitty rooms here. Ours is probably the lowest on the totem poll; you should see some of the _suites_ they have!" She covers her mouth with her hand, eyes dancing.

I think I'm really going to like Becca. Relief floods through me; I was worried about having a roommate I wouldn't get along with.

I glance around the sitting room, which is basically a small living room with a well-worn beige couch and club chair, light green carpeting, and a mid-sized TV against the far wall. To the left is a kitchenette with a small fridge, cook top, and microwave. A small, two-person table is tucked against the wall. Next to the TV is a doorway leading to our bedrooms, which are small but nice. My room has the same light green carpet and white walls as the sitting room, a twin bed, a small wooden dresser, and a closet. A door leads into the shared bathroom, which is long and narrow but has a double sink with a large mirror. Not bad at all. I can deal with this.

My boxes from Charlie's are sitting on the floor beside my bed.

"So, what do you think, Bella?" Becca asks from the doorway. She's bouncing on her toes like a little ball of energy.

"It's terrific, Becca! I think I'm going to like it here. Thanks for being so welcoming."

"Oh, I'm excited that you're here. We can have girls' nights and hang on each other's beds and talk about guys. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I do." Saying it out loud feels good, and a blush creeps up the back of my neck.

"Cool. College boy? Where does he go?"

"Here at Dartmouth, actually. He lives off campus, though."

"What's his name? Maybe I know him."

"Edward Cullen."

Becca's eyes widen, and she makes a choking sound. "Wh-what?"

"Do you know Edward?"

"Not exactly. But I've... heard about him enough recently." She slaps a hand over her mouth. "None of my business. Sorry."

"No, no. That's okay. What did you hear?"

"Well... that he was getting married to _Tanya_." Becca says Tanya's name with derision and a roll of her eyes, and I like her even more already.

"I take it you don't like Tanya?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Um... no. She's a bitch." Becca giggles.

"You can say that again," I mutter. "So what have you heard?"

"That Edward blew her off at the altar for an old flame. I guess that would be you?"

"That would be me."

"Awesome. I can't wait to meet him!"

I think Becca and I are going to be good friends.

For the next hour, we get to know each other a little better. Becca met her boyfriend, Jim, here at Dartmouth, and they've been dating for the past two years. He lives in one of the other dorms within walking distance of Delaney Hall. She's studying to be an accountant. She's originally from Indiana and really misses her family who she's very close with. Becca explains she's on a scholarship and a shoe-string budget. We giggle over how similar we are monetarily. In a way, it would suck to have a rich roomie when one is fairly poor, but as it is, we're on pretty equal footing.

I explain to her I'll be spending some nights—tonight being one—at Edward's apartment. We exchange cell numbers, and then I head out to Edward's car for the drive back to Wilson Street. Outside, it's pitch dark now. Everything looks different at night, and I make a few wrong turns on the way back to the apartment, but I finally get there.

I drag my sore ass up the stairs, wondering why I didn't just take the elevator instead. As I reach the top, I'm rewarded with the sight of Edward's broad shoulders, his reddish hair in its usual disarray curling over the collar of his t-shirt. Licking my lips, I smile as he turns his head my way. My face falls when I see the expression on his face—a mixture of anger and horror.

Looking past Edward, I immediately spy the source of his ire. _Tanya_. She's leaning against the wall casually with a smug look on her face. I'd love to slap it off.

"What's going on here?" I ask with as much control as I can muster.

"Bella—" Edward begins.

"Just saying hello," Tanya interrupts.

"Just saying hello?" I echo. "You're nuttier than I thought. Jesus... all the shit you've done, and you have the _nerve_ to show your face here?" My voice rises as I stalk up the last few steps and stand just behind Edward, who is now pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Bella, you don't understand..." Edward attempts, but a throaty laugh from Tanya interrupts him again.

"He's right, Bella. You _don't_ understand. You never did. That's why you should just step aside, so Edward and I can work things out."

I know she's not talking about the current conversation but suggesting that I get out of Edward's life so she can get him back. _It'll be an ice-cold day..._

"Step aside? For you?" My blood begins to boil. "I'll tell you what—how about I rearrange your face?" I lunge toward Tanya, but Edward grabs me around the waist.

"Bella, don't."

Tanya's amused face is in my line of vision, and I fling my arms out in the hopes I can reach her, struggling against Edward's iron hold. _Why is he doing this? Why doesn't he let me at her?_

"Let go of me, Edward!"

"Yes, Edward. Let her go." Tanya looks at him meaningfully, but it's obvious she isn't asking him to let me loose on her; she's asking him to give her another chance.

"Not if you were the last woman on earth, Tanya." Edward's voice drips with venom. "I don't know how many different ways I can say this—how I can make you understand. _I'm. Done. With. You._" He clearly punctuates each word.

In the meantime, I feel like a child being pulled out of a grammar school spat. Edward still has a firm hold around me. _What a hypocrite! After what he did to Mike's face, he's going to hold me back from pummeling Tanya?_

"Edward. Let go," I demand in a quiet but dangerous tone.

Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, and I stand beside him, glaring at Tanya who remains leaning calmly against the wall as if nothing is wrong. She's beautiful—exquisite really—and I hate her.

"Bella, she's not worth it." Edward leans down and whispers in my ear, "Please. Let's go inside and talk."

Suddenly, I realize I don't know the whole story. Edward is trying to warn me off from doing something stupid.

I step in front of him, looking Tanya in the eye, and I feel strong.

"You," I jab my index finger at her chest, "are a bitch. You participated in drugging me so you could have Edward. You pulled Mike into your sick scheme. You tried, and you failed, at getting Edward to the altar. He's not yours; _he's mine_. Edward has _always_ been mine."

Tanya says nothing, just cocks an eyebrow and places a hand on her hip. Her blue eyes spark like flint, and I know my words are having an effect, although she hides it well.

"Oh, really. Is that what you think? That he's yours?"

"It's what I _know_, Tanya. Edward is mine; always was, always will be. How did it feel to be number two, bitch? Always competing for his affections against me even though I was out of his life?" My voice is low and soft, and I deliver my words with complete confidence.

Tanya's fists clench as my words wash over her and sink into her like claws. I know my blow is the lowest of the low because women like Tanya just can't accept being second best to anyone. She wants to hit me; I can see it in her eyes. So I tap my chin in invitation with my index finger.

"Go ahead. You know you want to," I taunt.

"You home-wrecking whore!" she screeches.

"Oh, now where have I heard _those_ words before?" I tap my temple. "Oh, yeah... some jealous loser spray-painted them on my rental car."

I have no idea what Edward is doing behind me. I can feel his presence at my back, but he hasn't said a word.

"You... you..." Tanya sputters.

"Cat got your tongue, T?" I call her by the nickname she signed her note to Edward with, and her eyes widen.

This time, her hate-filled gaze trains on Edward, betrayal twisting her perfect features. "How could you, Edward?"

"No. How could _you_, Tanya?" Edward snaps back.

"Gah!" she screams out in a very unladylike way as her body shakes, and her face turns beet red.

"Come on, Bella. Let's go inside," Edward requests softy.

Suddenly, I don't feel the need to punch Tanya anymore; my words, and the knowledge that she was always second fiddle, did that for me.

"Later, _T_," I mock with a little wave as I turn away and prance into Edward's apartment with him close on my heels. A nonsensical shriek of rage comes from Tanya, and I hope she bursts a blood vessel.

Edward slams the door, rattling the doorframe, and a small print falls off the wall, glass shattering on the entryway floor. He engages all the locks before sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose again.

Looking up at the ceiling for a moment, he suddenly turns and punches the wall. "Jesus... Fuck!" he cries out, cradling his injured fist in the other hand.

"Edward... shit. Let me get you some ice."

I spring to action, heading into the kitchen to grab a dishcloth and fill it with ice cubes from the freezer. When I get back, Edward is still standing in the foyer with his head bowed. I wrap my fingers around his forearm, careful not to touch his hand, and lead him into the living room. He follows me robotically, never glancing up to see where he's walking. When we're in front of the couch, I sit down, pulling him with me.

Edward flops onto the couch, his head leaning back, eyes closed. Gingerly, I take his injured hand and place it in my lap, resting the ice on it lightly.

The silence becomes awkward, and I get worried. Edward looks so defeated, but I'm not sure why. Maybe it's hard for him to see Tanya in person? I know he doesn't want her back; he made that quite clear out in the hall, in addition to numerous other times over the past few weeks. I have to admit hearing him say it to her in front of me was infinitely satisfying.

"Edward?" I call his name softly. "Are you all right? Is there something I can do?"

He starts to laugh, shaking his head, but it's a bitterly ironic laugh, not a happy one. "Did I do something really evil in my life? Huh? What did I ever do to deserve this?"

"She can't hurt us anymore, Edward. She's out. This was just her last stand, that's all. There's nothing for her here."

"Bella, you have no idea what she's done." He laughs humorlessly. "No fucking idea. There's a reason all her stuff was cleaned out, and she left me my key. I should have known it was just too damn easy."

My mouth runs dry. "What did she do?" I ask in a hushed whisper.

"You just met the new occupant of apartment 2F."

"Excuse me?"

Edward opens his eyes, sliding them my way. "Yeah. Can you fucking believe this? Tanya is living right next door."

"What? But how did she manage..." My words trail off. God, how I wish I'd punched her in the face while I had the chance. Apparently, I'll have many more chances, since she's living in the next apartment over. "Does that mean you share a wall with her?"

"Yeah. My bedroom wall is up against her living room." He shakes his head. "That conniving bitch. No wonder she made things so easy on me by moving her stuff out—she just brought it right next door. I'm sick, Bella. Just sick to my stomach."

I'm right there with him. The thought of Tanya being right next door to him makes me want to throw up. While I'm sleeping in my dorm room, Tanya will be twenty feet away from Edward. When he lies in bed, she could be right on the other side of the wall. At any moment, she could knock on his door and try to seduce him back into her bed. Actually, I'm pretty sure she'll do just that.

Before I can stop myself, tears stream down my face. I feel like such a pansy crying about Edward's ex living next door, but I'm jealous, and a small part of me is worried he might fall for some of her bullshit. He stands strong right now, but will Tanya be able to wear him down over time? Is it possible he might fall back into old habits with her?

"Bella..." Edward's voice is desperate. "Please don't cry. Please, beautiful. You're the only woman I want. You were_ right _out there when you said I've always belonged to you, that Tanya was always second best. It's true. God, I'm so ashamed I allowed any of this to happen."

He pulls me to him, and the towel full of ice tumbles to the floor as he wraps both arms around me.

"Edward, your hand."

"Screw my hand. It's far more painful for me to see you upset, Bella." He rocks me soothingly, and I suspect he needs it just as much. "I'm so sorry," he whispers into my hair.

As we sit there, the whole situation starts to swell inside me; it feels like there's no room for anything else but what Tanya did to us, how fucked up our lives became after that one fateful night, and how she _still_ messes with us. If Mike hadn't spoken up, Edward would have gone through with the wedding. He'd be hers right now, sharing a bed and putting forth the effort to give Tanya special moments.

I _know_ Edward loves me. But I think a part of me is disappointed he wasn't stronger. Yes, I was with Mike for a long time, but in the end, I broke it off without knowing whether or not I had a chance with Edward. I broke it off thinking I would be alone. The thought crosses my mind that maybe I'm a little jealous or pissed-off that Edward's path was a bit easier than mine—he didn't _have_ to choose being alone over staying with the wrong woman because I spoke up, thereby making his choice a lot easier.

Standing up, I turn to face Edward, sliding between his knees. He puts his hands on my hips and looks up at me expectantly.

"Maybe I should go," I say quietly.

"Go?" he echoes, his brow creasing with confusion.

"Yeah. Back to the dorm... to sleep."

"What? No!" He's up on his feet before my mind can register it, pulling me against his chest. "Why would you say that?"

"There's a lot going on here. We're both really upset, and _she's_ right next door. Frankly, it's a little creepy. I can just go back to the dorm."

"You think it's not creepy for me, knowing that Tanya is living next door? She _wants_ to run you off, Bella! That's her master plan."

"I don't give a shit what Tanya wants. I just don't know if I can do this right now. There's so much … emotion swirling around inside me. So many thoughts."

"Bella... I need you."

"Maybe that's part of the problem, Edward, not the solution," I say, dropping my forehead against his chest.

Once the words are out, I can't take them back. I'm so glad my face is buried in his shirt because my eyes widen, and my mouth hangs open. I can't even imagine what _his_ face looks like right now. Edward's body goes rigid around me, but he doesn't loosen the bone-crushing hold he has me in.

"I don't even know how to respond to that. Bella, what are you saying?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Talk to me. Tell me."

I'm glad he's holding me up, because I think if he let go, I would just fall to the floor. Do I bring up the thoughts going through my mind? Do I tell him I'm concerned over the fact he was going ahead with the marriage, knowing it wasn't right?

His good hand rubs circles over my back, his injured one balled up against the back of my shoulder. I snake my arms up around his neck, running my fingers through the hair at the nape in an attempt to relax him. I know it's time to look him in the eye. Productive talks are not conducted into someone's shirt.

Lifting my head, I meet Edward's worried gaze. There's a V between his brows, and he looks truly frightened. I hate being the cause of that look on his face. I love him, and I never intend to let him go. That _doesn't_ mean I'm not disappointed in his past behavior.

"Edward, I love you so much. Never doubt that," I start. "Tanya just brought up a lot of feelings inside me, and I keep coming back around to the fact that you were about to marry her. Yes, I was with Mike for a long time, but I got out. I left him thinking that you were lost to me forever, fully expecting to be alone, until or unless I met someone that sparked the same kind of feelings in me that you did."

"You're stronger than me, Bella. But I have to tell you how devastating it was to see you wrapped around Newton that night. Right after you promised to meet_ me_. And Tanya was there... she soothed me. _Fuck!_ I was so stupid. Yes, I was going to marry her, and yes, I knew up on the altar that I was probably making a big mistake. I just kept stuffing my feelings down, trying to tell myself that I wasn't still in love with you—the only woman who ever broke my heart. Except you didn't break my heart, did you? Tanya did." Edward closes his eyes, taking a deep, shaking breath before continuing. "Bella, the truth is... The truth is, I think I was afraid to open my heart to anyone after you. Tanya was easy on the eyes, and there was no wooing required—she wanted me. Desperately. It was easy to be with her—there was no thinking involved. And after a while, I believed the lie. I thought the way things were between Tanya and me were the way things were _really_ supposed to be and that what I had with you was just some hormonal teenage fantasy."

My jaw hangs open a little. Hearing all of that is painful and freeing at the same time. Warring feelings bubble inside me like peroxide poured into an open wound—fizzing, stinging, cleansing. I pull out of Edward's embrace, muttering about the ice melting into the carpet, and head into the kitchen. I allow the partially melted ice cubes to fall into the sink.

"Edward, do you want me to get you more ice for your hand?" I call out loud enough for him to hear me.

"No," he whispers in my ear, pressing his body in behind me.

"Ah!" I cry out, dropping the wet dishcloth. He came in so quietly, I didn't even realize he was there.

Edward pulls my hair aside, ghosting his lips up the side of my neck. I'm trapped between his hard body and the kitchen counter, and as always, the feel of his lips on my skin causes a tingling to race through my body.

"I'm not letting you go." Edward pulls away from me long enough to turn me around and trap me back against the cabinets by placing his hands on the marble countertop to either side of me.

I should feel crowded, but I don't. Instead, I feel secure and wanted. Looking up slowly, I take in his chiseled jaw, which is taut with tension, those kissable, pouty lips that I love so much, and his smoldering gaze, which burns into me like a laser. I lose most of my breath when our eyes meet, but I still manage to whisper, "Okay. I'll stay tonight."

Edward shakes his head slowly. "That's not what I meant," he says in a quietly sexy, authoritative tone. "I'm never letting you go again, Bella."

"Um..." I stutter like a fool, trapped by the determination in his heated stare.

And then his mouth is on mine like fire and plush softness. He parts my lips with his tongue, delving deeply into my mouth... exploring, controlling. My fingers grip his shirt for dear life even though I'm pinned against the counter, and I respond to his kiss like a thirsty man in the desert. I like him being so aggressive. Edward is hard as a rock, and he tilts his pelvis forward to be sure I know it. He tangles the fingers of his good hand in my hair, sliding it around to cradle the back of my head as he continues kissing me. I'm like putty in his hands, and I love every moment of it.

He pulls away suddenly, leaving me breathless, my chest heaving.

"Tell me you're mine, and you'll never let Tanya get between us. Tell me you feel this electric pull between us—that you know we belong together."

"Yes." It's all I can manage to get out, but it's enough for him.

"I love you."

Another heated kiss melts my insides. How could I not know that we belong together? I've never experienced blistering hot kisses like the ones I've shared with Edward as a teenager or adult with anyone else.

"God, I love you, Edward. Your name is burned into my very soul."

My feet leave the ground, and I find myself cradled in Edward's arms as he heads straight for the bedroom.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I can't make it to the bedroom quickly enough. With Bella cradled in my arms, all I can think about is how much I love this woman—how much I want her. Her words still echo in my mind: 'Your name is burned into my very soul.' No matter how fast I go, no matter how small my apartment is, it takes too long to make it down that short hallway. Finally I do, and all I can think about is how I want—_need_—to prove myself to Bella. She needs to know how much I love her.

I lay her carefully on the chocolate brown comforter and stand up, just gazing down at her until a certain part of my anatomy can't handle it any longer, and I have to be near her again. I lie down next to her and cup her cheek with my uninjured hand, turning her face toward me. My lips crush hers, and it's still not enough. My tongue snakes out and runs along her bottom lip, eliciting a groan from her, and the vibrations shoot straight to my groin. My hips flex involuntarily, pressing my arousal to her thigh. Her tongue strokes against mine, and I know she's just as aroused as I am.

I break away from her, panting, and she whimpers incoherently at the sudden separation. "It's okay, beautiful," I say. Sitting up, I slip the buttons of her shirt out of their buttonholes, watching with fascination as more and more of her skin is revealed. Though it's not the first time I'm seeing her topless, it may as well be for the impact it's having on me. I swallow thickly as her blue lace bra is exposed. When the final button is released, she sits up to shrug out of her shirt, our eyes never leaving each other's. She shifts to her knees and meets my mouth with hers, only our lips touching. When she pulls back, a groan escapes me—she removed her bra. My breathing picks up, and I cup her breasts, running circles over the flesh but avoiding the one place I really want my hands to be.

"Ungh… Please, Edward," she moans, leaning into my palms. Since we want the same thing here, I can't hold back any longer. My thumbs stroke her nipples, and they pebble instantly beneath my touch. I knead her tender flesh and move in to kiss her again. Her hands slide up my t-shirt, her nails grazing my abs and chest, making me groan. She pushes the shirt up over my head, and I release her breasts—and her mouth—just long enough to toss it on the floor next to the bed. I stand, pulling her with me and press my lips urgently to hers again. Cupping one breast and teasing the nipple, I use my other hand to pop the button on her jeans and then slide the zipper down. Reluctantly releasing her breast, I hook both thumbs into the waistband of her jeans and panties and push them down over her feminine hips. Her breathing picks up as her clothes hit the floor.

I step back to admire my handiwork. Her deep, expressive brown eyes look shy, and her silky hair hangs in gentle waves down her back and over her shoulders. She bites her lower lip, and it increases my arousal. I want to be the one doing that. I hold my own desires at bay for the moment, and instead continue to take in the sight of my beautiful girlfriend standing completely naked in front of me. Her perky breasts with their responsive nipples are the exact right size for my hands, which I love. Her stomach is toned and flat, her hips slightly wider than her waist, giving her a perfect hourglass figure. The brown curls between her legs that I've never seen, only felt, are well groomed and just as beautiful as the rest of her body. As my eyes rove down her legs to her feet, she toes off her shoes and steps out of the pool of denim on my bedroom floor. "So beautiful," I murmur, bringing my eyes slowly back up to hers. Her cheeks turn rosy at the compliment.

"Can I have a turn?" she asks, reaching toward my jeans with slightly trembling hands.

I nod my approval, standing still as she struggles with my button fly. "It's okay, beautiful." I reach down and steady her hands, assuring her that this is the natural progression for us. _Or is it? _The thought is sudden and unwelcome. I push it aside and move my hands to her hips—she's steady enough now to undress me easily. I kick my shoes, socks, and jeans off, pushing them aside with my feet.

Bella gapes at me, giving me much the same treatment I gave her just moments ago. "God, you're stunning." Her voice is barely audible. "What did I do to deserve you?"

My heart pounds in my chest; I can feel every beat clearly. "Come." I hold out my hand, and she takes it. I situate her in the center of the bed and lie down next to her again. I allow my hand to drift over her stomach and linger in her soft curls. She gasps when I slip one finger inside her, testing her. She's definitely ready. I adjust myself so that I'm a little closer, and once more press my arousal against her thigh. The skin on skin contact causes a hiss to escape my lips involuntarily. My mouth finds hers, and the kiss deepens quickly, our tongues twisting together, moving in some sort of intimate dance. When her small hand wraps around my shaft, it's my turn to gasp.

I squeeze my eyes tight and break the kiss. When I roll over to retrieve a condom from the bedside table, that unbidden and unwanted voice haunts me again.

_You can't do this now. You're both emotional after having just dealt with Tanya. It's really nothing more than rebound sex._

_No! I love Bella. This is so much more._

_Think about it. Would you even be considering having sex with her yet if you hadn't just had that row with Tanya in the hallway and the subsequent emotional outpouring with Bella?_

My subconscious is really annoying. And eloquent. Who the hell uses words like 'subsequent emotional outpouring' when they're about to have sex? As much as I hate to admit it, though, he's—er, I'm—right. I swallow thickly and turn back to face Bella again, abandoning my search for protection. "We can't do this now, Bella."

Her eyes widen to the size of saucers. "Wh-why not? Don't you w-want to?"

I hate myself for putting that look of fear and rejection on her face. "Oh, I want to. More than anything, beautiful. But not like this; not because we're both upset over what just happened in the hallway."

She sighs and tears glisten in her eyes. "You're right." Her eyes fall from mine, focusing on my chest instead.

"Hey," I say, cupping her chin and lifting her gaze back up to mine, "it's okay. Remember what I said before? About making sure it's as special as the first time? For both of us?"

She nods.

"I meant that. When we make love, Bella, it's going to be magical."

Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, but I know she agrees with me.

"How about a shower now instead?" I suggest gently.

"Sure." Her voice is quiet, and I feel like a heel for having put the kibosh on things just now, but in my heart, I know it was the right decision.

To avoid the risk of seeing Tanya again tonight, we order dinner in. There's a Mexican place nearby that delivers, and it provides a nice alternative to the standard Chinese or pizza. We sit together on the sofa in our pajamas eating tacos, enchiladas, rice, and beans, and watch old sitcoms on TV. For the first time since we got together, things feel a little awkward. My eyes keep darting over to Bella as I try to figure out a way to fix what happened in the bedroom earlier. I know we're on the same page as far as why I stopped things, but I still get the feeling she's not completely happy that I did.

I pick up the remote from the table in front of me and click the TV off. I have to talk to her.

She looks at me, surprised at the sudden silence and darkness—I forgot to turn the lamp on before I turned off the TV. I reach behind me to click on the side-table lamp then turn my attention back to Bella.

"I need to know that you're okay with the way things happened—well, didn't happen tonight, beautiful," I say.

She gazes at me for a moment, and I desperately want to know what she's thinking. I take the Styrofoam take-out container from her lap and set it on the table, and then scoot closer to her, trying to get some sort of clue from her expression. When she finally starts talking, the floodgates are open.

"Edward, of course I'm okay that you stopped things. You were absolutely right—it wasn't the right time for us. I want it to be special when it happens, too. I'm honestly not mad at you. I apologize if I've put any doubts into your mind with my behavior tonight. That wasn't my intention." She pauses to take a breath before continuing. "Truthfully, what's bothering me is just more of the same, and I hate that I can't seem to get over it, but this is an impossible situation. Who would've thought that your psychotic ex-fiancée would move in right next door?"

"I know, Bella." My voice is full of apology even though I haven't technically done anything wrong. Well, not in the past couple of weeks, anyway. It could be argued that simply by believing Tanya's bullshit in high school, I'm as guilty as she is.

"This is just so much harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I knew that once I accepted the spot at Dartmouth, I'd have to deal with her, but I guess on some level I was hoping she'd back the hell off. She made it clear tonight that she's not going to, though."

"Yes, she did." I sigh. "Would it make you feel better if I moved?" The words are out of my mouth before the thought was consciously made, but the instant I hear them, I know that's exactly what I have to do.

"What did you say?"

"Would you feel better if I moved?" I repeat.

The silence between us is deafening for several excruciating seconds as she processes what I just asked her. She shifts uncomfortably before saying, "I could never ask you to do that."

"That's not what I asked."

She sighs. "Of course it would make me feel better. But it's not nece—"

I cut her off by placing one finger over her lips. "It would make me feel better, too."

"Really?" Her voice is slightly muffled by my finger, which is still over her mouth.

I gaze at her meaningfully and nod.

Her eyes light up, and she launches herself into my arms, peppering kisses all over my face.

I chuckle at her enthusiasm over the idea. I knew she'd be happy with the prospect of getting away from Tanya, but this is beyond what I expected. When she finally calms down, I pull her face away from mine—reluctantly. I'm not willing to let her get too far, so I hold her in my lap. Though the decision's made, there are a few things I need to make sure she understands.

"You know it won't happen overnight, right? It's going to take some time to find a place, especially this time of year. With school in session, it might be hard for me to find an available apartment at all."

"Honestly, so long as there's an end in sight, I'm thrilled. Not that I doubted your commitment to me or to our relationship, but you've really proven yourself in my eyes. I love you."

The corner of my mouth pulls up. "I love you, too."

"So, can we turn _Friends_ back on now?" She giggles. "That was one of my favorite episodes you turned off."

"Really? I'm sorry. I was having trouble focusing on the TV, so I guess I assumed you might be, too. No?"

"A little, I guess." She looks sheepish.

"Well, then, let's go back to the beginning of the episode." I grin at her and turn the TV back on and rewind the show using the magic of modern technology—a.k.a. my DVR.

~SN~

The next day, school starts back up. Bella's extremely nervous, but neither of us has any classes until ten, so we leave early, grab a quick breakfast from Mabel at The Pit Stop. Then, using the schedule from her welcome packet, I take her on a 'reminder tour' of where she'll need to go. We do the loop twice, and then on the third time around, I have her lead the way. She only gets lost once, so I consider that a win. "Because you've already got all your general ed credits from your time at Florida, it's likely that a lot of the people you come across will be the same from class to class—you're all in the same major. If you have trouble, just ask one of them."

She looks nervous but nods.

At five minutes before ten, I drop her off at her first class. Feeling oddly like a father dropping off his child at the first day of kindergarten, I kiss her and say, "You'll be fine. I love you, and I'll see you this afternoon, okay?"

She attempts a smile, but she's obviously losing the battle against her nerves—she barely manages a grimace. "I love you, too," she replies, swallowing hard.

I have a break for lunch at noon. Knowing that Bella's lunch break isn't until one-thirty—at which point I'll be back in class—I eat on my own. I go to one of my favorite coffee shops, the Java Hut and order a mocha and one of their signature sandwiches. While my order is being prepared, I step outside and buy a newspaper from the box—no reason to put off the search for a new apartment.

I find a vacant table and open the paper to the classifieds. I'm surprised to see that there are actually several listings in the city; I circle those that seem the most promising, and by the time my food arrives, I have multiple places to call.

With the process officially started, the desire to keep the ball rolling is strong. I eat my sandwich quickly, and then pull out my cell phone, calling all of the places I circled. By the time I have to go back for my next class, I have three appointments to view apartments lined up over the next two days.

I'm leaning against the wall waiting for Bella when her last class ends. That feeling of the doting father returns, and I chuckle at myself.

She grins when she sees me and then frowns in confusion almost immediately. "Didn't you have any classes today?"

"Of course I did." I smirk at her.

"Just not as many as me, I suppose."

"Or maybe the timing was just different," I say, offering another solution.

"I guess." She looks skeptical, but then brightens again. "No matter. I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too. And I've got good news."

"Oh?" She looks up at me as I push away from the wall and wrap my arm around her, leading her out of the building and toward the parking lot where I've left my Audi.

"There are actually several places available, and I've got two appointments tonight and one more tomorrow to view some of them."

"Wow. That was quick."

"Well, the less time I have to spend living next door to Tanya, the better," I say darkly. Then in a brighter tone, "So, would you like to come with me to see the places?"

Her face falls. "I'd love nothing more than to spend time with you, but I can tell already that Dartmouth is way harder than Florida State. I've got loads of homework. I should probably go back to my dorm and work. I don't want to fall behind, especially not my very first day."

"Completely understandable," I tell her. I'm disappointed, but I hide it well, and turn us away from the parking lot and back toward Delaney Hall.

By the time Bella's safely in her room—I meet her roommate, Becca, who reminds me a lot of my sister in personality—I have to hurry to the car in order to make it to my first viewing on time.

The manager of the apartment complex is a friendly, plump woman. When I enter the office, she stands and smiles warmly at me. "Mr. Cullen, I presume?"

"Yes." I can't help but smile at her H.M. Stanley reference.

"I'm Mrs. Gale. Let me show you the unit."

"Thank you."

As we're walking through the complex to the available unit, she spouts off all the amenities included as part of the rent. "Water, sewer, and garbage are all paid, as well as wireless internet, but you're responsible for your own electricity. As you may have noticed when you got here, we're one of the few places in town with a parking lot; every unit comes with a covered parking spot. There's an on-site gym, and each apartment comes with full appliances and central air, which keeps it cool in the summer and warm in the winter without outrageous bills. All I've got available right now is a two-bedroom, so I hope that's okay."

"A two-bedroom is perfect," I tell her. "I live alone right now, but I'm a student over at Dartmouth, and I don't really want to give up my study room." It's more painful than I would've thought to say aloud that I live alone. _God, I wish Bella wasn't living in the dorms. _

"Dartmouth, eh? I knew you were a smart boy; it's obvious just by looking at you." She winks at me, and I feel the tips of my ears heat.

She unlocks the door of one of the six buildings, then leads me to an apartment on the ground floor, and unlocks that door as well. "You go ahead and take your time looking around; I'll be here if you have any questions, but in my experience, it's better to let the space speak for itself."

The apartment is way nicer than my current place, which I was honestly pretty happy with until last night. The kitchen is white and open, with only a breakfast bar separating it from the living room. In addition to the breakfast bar, there's a place for a full dining room table as well. On the far side of the living room, away from the kitchen, a sliding glass door leads out to a patio. There's a short hallway directly across the room from the front door, which leads to the two bedrooms and the bathroom. The closets are spacious, but that's irrelevant to me—I don't have that many clothes, and when—_if—_Bella decides to move in here with me at some point, I'm pretty sure she won't be nearly the clothes horse that Tanya is, so it's likely that most of the closet area will go unused. The master bedroom boasts an en suite bathroom, and the other is close to the 'guest' bathroom—just a few steps across the narrow hall.

The walls in every room are pale beige, which is a nice change from the standard apartment-white—my furniture will look good in here. The more I look around, the more I like the place. It's hard not to simply plop down a deposit instantly. When I come back to the living room, Mrs. Gale is sitting on one of the barstools. "Well?" she asks.

"It's fabulous," I tell her, "but I have two more places to look at today and tomorrow. Can I call you tomorrow night?"

"Of course. You need to know that this place is in pretty high demand, though. I can't promise that it'll still be available tomorrow night."

I sigh and rub the back of my neck. I don't want to lose out on this place in case the other two are holes, but until I see them, I know I have to make the responsible decision. "I understand. Assuming I take it, how quickly can I move in?"

"As soon as you'd like. Give me a call as soon as you make your decision; assuming you take it, we can sign the lease right away."

"Okay." We're back to my car now. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Gale. I assure you, I'll call you tomorrow night one way or the other to let you know my intentions."

"Very good, Mr. Cullen." She reaches out her hand, and I take it, shaking it firmly. She has quite a grip herself.

The next apartment I view is only a fraction as nice as what I saw with Mrs. Gale. If the place tomorrow doesn't beat it, that'll be where I move.

On the drive home, the Mattress King store catches my eye. I'd decided not two days ago to forego the purchase of a new bed, opting for just fresh sheets instead, but after all the shit that Tanya's pulling, the last thing I want is anything that even remotely reminds me of her. And that includes the bed. So on an impulse, I pull in.

An hour later, I have a new mattress on order, just waiting for my call as to where and when it should be delivered. The sales associate was more than helpful when I explained that I thought it would make more sense to have it delivered after I move rather than before, only to have to deal with it on my own.

When I get to the second floor of my building, I hurry past the door marked 2F as quickly and quietly as I can, not interested in dealing with Tanya tonight. To my chagrin, there's a note taped to my door, and I recognize my name written in her handwriting. I yank it off the door and crumple it up, not even willing to read it. There's nothing she can say that interests me.

After a quick dinner of the leftover Mexican from last night, I settle into my study to get my homework done—Bella isn't the only one with schoolwork tonight. Once I'm seated in my burgundy executive chair, though, my mind wanders. Focusing on the computer screen before me proves impossible—all I can see is the first apartment I viewed tonight, sprawled naked with Bella on the new king-sized bed I just purchased.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: So... Bella gets feisty as hell but does not pummel Tanya. We know for a fact some of you are disappointed based on the number of times you've requested a full out cat-fight in reviews. And how about Wendy's... cough*block*cough? We're really looking forward to your reactions. Our readers are so incredibly passionate about everything in this story, and we love you for it even if we don't always agree.**

**Sarita would like to recommend _Unrequited_ by Perrymaxed. Actually, that's how we found Perry. Sarita met her in a WC and started reading her awesome story. It's AH, ExB, and totally awesome. Link in my faves. Be sure to tell her Sarita send ya'.**

**Sarita is working on her novel _The Weight of Roses_ and will post further information when available. It will be published with TWCS sometime in 2012. Rest assured, the fanfic stories will continue, but know that your concerns are much appreciated and elicit warm fuzzies.**

**Follow us on Twitter! (at) wmr1601 and (at) SaritaDreaming for fanfic and (at) SarahAisling for original fic.**


	20. Chapter 18 Mean Girls

**A/N: Hello everyone! Hope your holiday season is a joyous one. Amid the hustle and bustle, try to remember what it's all about, and don't forget to let your loved ones know how much they mean to you.**

**As always, thanks to Caz, Keye, and Sandy, our prereaders and friends, for all their valuable feedback and suggestions. Huge thanks to our beta, Perry (Perrymaxed), for keeping Sarita's abuse of the word _that_ under control *cough* along with her talent for trimming the unnecessary stuff. Mwah!**

* * *

**Chapter 18**

**~Mean Girls~**

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

Becca stares at Edward—rather she seems to be mooning over him—her eyes sparkling. I clear my throat, and she realizes her staring has become inappropriate.

"Um, I'm just going to go... study," she stammers. "It was so nice to meet you, Edward."

"Likewise." Edward shoots her one of his trademark lopsided grins, and I think I hear both of our ovaries screaming in ecstasy.

Becca hightails it out of the room and closes her bedroom door. Edward and I stare at each other for a moment before he announces he needs to leave for his appointment.

I walk him to the door, and he presses his hand against it to keep me from opening it.

"Bella," he calls softly, and I turn in place to face him.

When I look up into his eyes, they are dark and hooded, and my mouth goes dry. He smirks, knowing the effect he has over me. He presses in closer, and I find myself tightly sandwiched between Edward and the door. I have no complaints as my breath catches, and I continue to gape at him.

One of his hands still holds the door closed, and he ghosts the fingers of the other along the edge of my jaw, stopping to trace across my lip with his index finger. I part my lips, and he pushes his finger inside my mouth. I can't resist wrapping my mouth around his finger and tonguing it, my eyelids fluttering closed.

We both breathe heavy, and Edward moans softly. "Bella, I have to go. I wish I didn't, and I wish we were somewhere else."

I swirl my tongue around his finger slowly and hum my agreement. A second later, the finger is snatched away and replaced by Edward's tongue, his soft lips pressing against mine insistently. I welcome him into my mouth, sucking on his tongue, and he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. My fingers tighten on the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. Sliding a hand into my hair to tilt my head the way he wants it, he plunders my mouth, completely taking over. And now it's my turn to moan around his tongue.

Edward pulls away. "You... damn. I have to go before I throw you down right here," he says hoarsely.

And me? I think: _Hell yes! Throw me down or take me against the door._ The fact that Becca is in the next room 'studying' doesn't cross my mind for a few seconds, and as reality seeps in, it drags me down, my face falling. "Damn it. I hate this already, Edward."

"Hate what?" His fingers caress my face tenderly, and he looks down at me expectantly.

_God, he is so hot._

"That there will be many times you drop me off and leave. I miss you already, and you haven't even left yet." I've never been much of a pouter, but I indulge myself, allowing my lower lip to protrude the slightest bit.

"It doesn't have to be that way..." Edward trails off, leaving the obvious words unspoken.

If I move in with him, we can be together all the time. My mind quickly fills in some details: studying together, cooking together, watching TV, snuggling into _our_ bed... making love whenever we want.

I draw in a sharp breath. "Yeah, it does. At least for now. You better go before..."

"Before what?" he whispers, licking his lips.

"Please don't make this harder for me. Becca's right in the next room."

Edward nods, but there's a look of disappointment he can't quite hide. He leans in and kisses me slowly, setting my nerve endings on fire. "You belong by my side, beautiful. I hope you realize that soon. Just know that I'll be waiting."

His words cause a major twinge between my legs that begins to ache immediately.

"Thank you for taking the Tanya situation so seriously and looking for another place to live. It really means the world to me."

"Don't you know by now I'd do just about anything for you? I won't let Tanya—or anyone else—ruin what we have. I love you."

"Love you, too."

And then he's gone, leaving behind the scent that is purely Edward.

I lean my back against the door with a sigh.

"Edward left?" Becca peeks her head out of her room.

"He did." I let out a soft sigh. How am I going to concentrate on my homework after _that_? How will I manage until I can see him again? Part of me wants to just say 'screw it' and move in with him, but I know it's not the best course of action—at least until he's not living next door to that bitch.

"Um, wow. He's so hot. How do you even talk to him without getting tongue tied?" Becca asks, wide-eyed.

I laugh, but I have no answer for her. I suppose I'm so enamored with him I don't spend time thinking about the details. Being with Edward has become like breathing, and at some point, the realization that I hadn't breathed properly for four years hits me like a slap to the face.

An hour later, Becca and I sit at the little table by the kitchenette studying together over matching bowls of Moose Tracks. Yet another thing we have in common—our favorite ice cream.

"So how was your first day?" Becca asks between mouthfuls.

"Weird. But not bad. It's strange to be in a new school at this juncture—you know, the last semester before starting my masters program. I know everyone started new classes today, but each of them knew at least one person, except me."

"Yeah, that sucks, but you'll have lots of friends in no time, Bella! You're such a cool person."

"Thanks. I'll be fine. I just hope I can keep up with everything."

"You will."

After we finish our homework, Becca suggests going down to the rec room for a while so she can introduce me to some of our floor-mates. I don't really feel like it—I'd rather call Edward—but it's important that I make a life for myself here and try to fit in.

Wearing sweats and t-shirts, we head downstairs in our slippers. It's Vampire Diaries and Grey's Anatomy night, and I hear the buzz of female voices coming from the community kitchen.

"Don't be nervous," Becca whispers, taking my hand in hers.

We walk through the room, with its flat screen and cushy couches and chairs, and into the tiny kitchen. The room has a small round table with six chairs and a sink, refrigerator, coffee pot, and microwave. Dirty white linoleum tiles cover the floor, and the walls are orange. The room doesn't really fit with the rest of the décor here, but I suppose it serves its purpose.

One girl mans the microwave, filling bowl after bowl with popcorn, and another lines up bottles of water and Snapple on the counter beside her.

They chatter about Stefan, Damon, and Elena. Someone else remarks Klaus is hot and another rebuts that, declaring Tyler to be the one to keep an eye on.

They seem to take it all so seriously! I like the show, but I've never really 'picked a side' or gone crazy over the actors.

"Hey, girls! I want to introduce you to my new roomie. This is Bella." Becca starts with the girls crowded around the small table. "Bella, this is Sue, Carrie, Lara, Terry, Dominique, and Jennifer. And over by the counter are Jordin and Helene."

There's a chorus of greetings from the girls around the table.

Helene, a tall girl with long curly blonde hair, turns from the counter where she's lining up the drinks. "Nice to meet you, Bella. Would you like a drink?"

"Water would be great."

I'm a bit overwhelmed, but I try to smile and appear friendly to everyone.

Jordin, the girl making the popcorn, shoots a glance over her shoulder but says nothing. Jet-black hair cascades halfway down her back in gorgeous waves, and her body is model-perfect.

"Nice to meet all of you. It'll take me a while to remember all your names."

"There _will_ be a test later, Bella." A girl with short brown hair winks at me and smiles. "I'm Terry, by the way."

"Terry. Got it." I return the smile.

There's a snort from over by the microwave, but when I look up, I can't tell which girl it came from. Since everyone else has gone out of their way to be friendly, my money's on Jordin.

"Girls, time for the show," Jordin turns around and leans against the counter.

Most of the excited chatter cuts off rather abruptly when she speaks, and there's a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes as she gazes around the group.

Everyone heads inside, taking their places on the couches and chairs. A few of them grab bowls of popcorn on their way out. Becca grabs a Snapple and a pile of napkins, and I follow her, unsure where to sit.

"Beanbag chair okay?" Becca asks.

"Sure."

We plop down in our seats, and Becca situates a bowl of popcorn between us. I munch happily on the popcorn—it's something to keep my mouth busy so I don't feel funny about my lack of contribution to the conversation.

Jordin is the last one into the room. She makes her way over to a huge cushy armchair and tucks her feet under her. It doesn't escape my notice that some of the girls sit on the floor or are crammed together on the couches, and nobody bothered to take what appears to be the most comfortable chair in the room. It seems this group has a reigning queen.

"Oh, my God, there's Tyler!" one of the girls squeals.

"He's a _dog_. Where's your loyalty, Dominique?" Jordin shoots her a scathing look.

"Whatever," Dominique mutters.

We watch Grey's Anatomy, which also has different camps. It seems McSteamy and McDreamy have been thrown over for some of the new blood. Jordin deems Owen the hot commodity, and nobody argues with her. _What, are we back in high school?_

After the show is over, Becca and I help some of the girls clean up.

Jordin continues to sit on her 'throne' and pay court to her subjects. Her face is just as exquisite as the rest of her, but her sour countenance and icy gaze detract from the overall appeal. I firmly believe you can be beautiful and ugly at the same time.

When we say 'goodnight,' Jordin is the only one who doesn't respond. Not wanting to sound like a whiner my first night with the girls, I refrain from mentioning the obvious snubs to Becca.

"I'm going to hit the hay, Bella," Becca announces with a yawn.

I head into my room, too, and realize I have two missed calls from Edward on my cell. It's ten-thirty, and I decide to take a chance he's still up. Snuggling down in my bed, I dial his cell.

"Hey, beautiful." His smooth, sexy voice sends a thrill up my spine.

"Hi. What are you doing?"

"Watching _How it's Made_. You?"

"You're watching what? Isn't that, like, a geek show?" I tease.

"It's _not _a geek show!" he defends loudly. "Well, maybe a little geeky. It's really cool, though. You get to see how all kinds of things are made. And what are you doing?"

"Lounging in my small, lonely bed." I sigh dramatically.

"You could have been in my _big_, lonely bed," Edward points out, laughing. "How was your night? Did you get a lot of studying done?"

"Yeah. The dorm girls had a TV night, and Becca invited me to join in."

"That was nice of her. Did you have a good time?"

"It was fun. Most of the girls were really nice."

"Just most? Did someone make you feel unwelcome, Bella?"

"Nah. It was nothing." Even though I dismiss Jordin's snubs, I have a feeling she isn't going to thaw out anytime soon. I'm not in the habit of curbing my opinions based on those around me, and I suspect there will be times we butt heads because of it.

"Well, I'm here is you want to talk about it."

"Thanks, but I'm fine. So... how was apartment hunting?"

"It went great! The second one I looked at wasn't for me, but I loved the first place. I have one more to look at tomorrow, but it's more of a formality—I think I'm going to take the first one." Edward goes into a description of the apartment, and it sounds really nice. "I even have a brand new mattress on order, ready to be delivered. There's only one thing that will be missing then."

"What's that?"

"You, Bella."

"Edward..." I whine. It's hard enough to be away from him as it is; I don't need him constantly dangling that particular carrot in front of my nose.

"Sorry. That wasn't fair of me." There's a brief silence, and then he changes the subject. "What's your schedule like tomorrow?"

"My first class is at eight, and I have a two hour break from one to three."

"It just so happens I'm free at one-thirty. Want to have lunch with me?"

"Absolutely."

"Get some sleep, beautiful. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You, too, handsome. I miss you."

"I miss you, too. Love you."

"I love you. Goodnight, Edward."

After the day I had, I slip easily into a dreamless sleep.

**~SN~**

In the morning, Becca tugs at my sleeve. "Bella, don't you have an eight o'clock class with Professor Collins?"

"Mm-hmm..." I mumble sleepily, squinting against the stream of sunlight forcing its way through the crack between the blinds and the edge of the window.

"Hate to tell you this, but it's seven-fifteen. Oh, and Collins is a stickler for punctuality. He's also an asshole, just so you know."

Suddenly, I'm wide awake. "Shit!" I leap out of bed and head for the bathroom.

After my shower, I scarf down a bowl of Cheerios and book out the door with five minutes to find my class. Unfortunately, it takes me ten.

I try to slip into the room as unobtrusively as possible. The door opens for me silently—so far, so good. Professor Collins is writing something on the board at the front of the room, and I quickly climb the steps along the side wall until I find a row with a few empty spots. As I'm about to make it to a seat, my foot gets caught on something, and I nearly fall. Even though I catch myself, I drop my binder, which lands with a loud _thwack!_ on the floor. Blood rushes to my face as snickers ripple through the room.

"So nice of you to join us." The professor glares at me, and I just want to curl up in a corner. "And you are?"

"Isabella Swan, Sir. Sorry I'm late."

"Swan... Swan... I haven't had you before. Did you change majors?"

"No. I'm a transfer from Florida State."

Professor Collins snorts derisively. "That explains a lot," he mutters so low I can barely make out the words. Then he raises his voice so everyone can hear. "I suppose things are pretty _relaxed_ in Florida, Ms. Swan, but here we take our education seriously."

My mouth gapes open. I don't think I've ever been spoken to so rudely by a teacher, especially in front of a large group of fellow students. I peg Professor Collins to be in his mid-fifties, his neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair giving him a distinguished appearance. Maybe it's making a huge assumption, but I would have expected treatment like this from some wrinkly old curmudgeon or a young, arrogant professor. Obviously, appearances can be deceiving.

"I assure you, I take my education very seriously."

"Do you now? We shall see, Ms. Swan. We shall see. Take a seat, and keep in mind that my policy after the first week is to lock the door once class begins."

"Yes, Sir."

Red-faced, I settle myself at the desk and open the offending binder to take notes. It's hard for me to concentrate on what the professor drones on about. My first day in his class and I've already hit one of his hot buttons. Thankfully, he ignores me for the rest of class, but my face is destined to burn hot once more.

"Part of this course includes a practicum. You will be expected to do a local internship working with children. I'll be handing out assignments based on your majors. First up is Special Education." He strolls back and forth across the front of the room rifling through some papers. "Jamie Saunders?" He hands the paper to a young man on the other side of the room.

"Tanya Denali." He smiles, heading straight for the first row.

_Tanya Denali?_

_Fuck my life._

"Thank you, Professor."

He continues handing out assignments. All the while, I'm panicking inside. I'm mortified Tanya was there to witness my snafu. But even worse? For the first time, it hits home that we're both majoring in Early Childhood Education, and although our focuses may be different, we're sure to have more classes together.

When the professor finally calls out my name, Tanya turns in her seat and looks at me with a mixture of spite and amusement. She whispers something to the girl next to her, and they both look over at me and snicker.

When class is over, I can't get away fast enough. Thank God I'm close to the door. Rushing to my next class, I take a seat in the center of the room, hoping to blend in. A few students from the previous class file into the room, including Tanya and the girl she was laughing with. _Great._

By the time I'm due to meet Edward, I'm a hot mess. Finding a tree to sit against in the courtyard, I tip my head back and close my eyes. Breathing in and out, I attempt to calm myself. I knew there was a good probability I would share classes with Tanya. Somehow, I had to find a way to deal with it and not allow it to distract me.

"Hey, beautiful."

My eyes fly open. Edward crouches in front of me, green eyes dancing.

"Edward." Saying his name releases the tension in my body and I breathe a sigh of relief.

He stands, holding a hand out to help me up. I fling myself into his arms, hugging him for dear life.

"Whoa! What's all this? I know you missed me—and I missed you, too—"

"_She's_ in two of my classes," I interrupt. "It was an awful morning."

"Tanya?"

"The one and only."

"Shit. I guess it makes sense, though, since you're both in Childhood Ed." His lips brush across my temple. "I'm sorry, Bella. Did she say anything to you?"

"No. She just shot me dirty looks and was whispering and laughing with some other girl."

I explain about the incident with Professor Collins, and Edward listens sympathetically, rubbing soothing circles on my back. At some point I realize I've been blathering on and never properly greeted my boyfriend.

"Just listen to me going on and on. I'm so glad you're here. I missed you last night."

"That's okay. I'm always here for you," he whispers, placing a finger under my chin to lift my face to his.

He gazes into my eyes intensely, and suddenly it feels as if we're in a vacuum; the very air around us seems to thin, and everything else—both within and without—fades into the background as his lips meet mine. I lose myself in Edward's kiss, my eyes fluttering closed.

"Well, if it isn't the klutzy home-wrecker herself." Tanya's scathing voice breaks through the bubble surrounding us.

Before I can turn my head, Edward places a hand on my face. "Ignore her." —Kiss— "Don't allow her to get under your skin." —Lick— "Just concentrate on us."

Edward deepens the kiss, holding me tight, and I almost forget that there's a viper standing beside us. _ Almost._

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

It's obvious that Bella's unable to completely ignore Tanya watching us make out. Honestly, I am, too; I'm just a little better at faking it than Bella is. No matter how much I try to silently calm her nerves through the kiss, she never relaxes in my arms. After a moment, I pull back slightly, resting my forehead against hers. "I love you," I whisper.

"Love you, too." She still looks uncomfortable.

"_Love_!" Tanya screeches from beside us. "Are you fucking kidding me? Less than a month ago, you were saying those same words to _me_, Edward. Have you forgotten so quickly?"

I run one hand roughly through my hair, pulling on the ends. I take a deep breath, readying myself to once again remind Tanya of her place in my life—as the substitute I accepted only when the one I wanted was out of reach. Before I even move my forehead away from Bella's, though, another voice cuts through the crisp, early-spring air. "Come on, Tanya. Making a spectacle here in the middle of the courtyard isn't going to win him back. Let's go back to my dorm, and we'll make a _real _plan."

Bella's eyes cut sharply over to the girl with the black hair and fair skin. "Jordin?" she whispers, not quite surprised.

Jordin, whose voice I also recognized, just glares at us.

"Let me tell you what I've been telling Tanya for weeks, Jordin," I say, matching her glare with one of my own. "There's not a damn thing in this world you—either of you—can do to convince me to get back with Tanya. Even if Bella decides tomorrow that she never wants to see me again as long as she lives, I wouldn't give Tanya the time of day. _It's over. _Get it through your heads." With that, I grab Bella's hand in mine and lead her through campus to the parking lot where my car is.

We walk in silence, and once we're in the car, we sit without speaking. I don't know what's going through Bella's mind, but she looks pretty shell-shocked. I'm a little surprised at that, because just two days ago, she was up in Tanya's face, and now she's… well, not. Driving through the streets of Hanover, I steal glances at Bella whenever I can. It's upon seeing her defeated expression—again—at a stop sign that I know what I need to do. I know Bella keeps saying she understands my commitment, she believes my love for her, and she loves me, too, but we need something solid to cement our relationship. A weekend away. Now that we've been here for a couple of days and are just beginning to get a glimpse of what Tanya's capable of—though I have no doubts that she'll get worse before she gets better (and by better, I mean out of my life)—it's time to prove to Bella that she's the only one I want.

There aren't any more school breaks until the semester's over, but we do have the weekends. Two days and one night is enough to get away and shower Bella with love and adoration.

Without even realizing where I'd driven us, I find my car outside a Korean restaurant. I haven't been here in ages; it never crosses my mind as someplace to go on a regular basis, but the food is amazing. I honestly don't know why I don't come here more often.

"Is this okay?" I ask Bella, taking her hand after I've opened her door. It's not outside my notice that I should probably have asked that question before I parked and got out of the car, but I have no problems getting back in and taking her someplace else instead if she wants.

"I've never had Korean food," she replies tonelessly, reading the sign above the door.

"It's fabulous," I assure her.

Inside the restaurant, we're seated in a booth, and Bella asks my advice on what to order. I suggest either the Bulkogi Beef stir-fry or the Teriyaki Chicken.

"How about if you have one and I order the other and we can share?" she suggests. "That way I'll know which I prefer for the next time we come here."

"Sounds like a plan," I tell her, smiling. I'm glad she seems to be relaxing now that we're away from Tanya and Jordin.

"I should've known Jordin was one of Tanya's cronies," she says after the waitress has taken our order. "She was just so cold toward me last night."

"Last night?"

"Didn't I tell you? She's on my floor. She was at TV night."

"You have got to be kidding me," I groan. "What are the odds?"

"I don't know," Bella answers my rhetorical question.

"I really am sorry that all the cards seem to be stacked against you. I know they say 'it's a small world' and all, but this is ridiculous."

"It's not your fault." She shrugs, feigning nonchalance, but I'm not fooled for one second.

Any reservations I may have had about that weekend away are dashed away at the news that Jordin lives on Bella's floor. I'll need that time away together to convince her to move in with me.

**~SN~**

After I drop Bella off for her afternoon classes, I do some preliminary research to find a place for the romantic weekend I want to treat Bella to. My goals are simple and finite: someplace not too close, yet not too far away; someplace with a very romantic setting; and someplace that will leave a lasting impression for Bella as 'that special place' in our relationship. After a few hours with Google, I find the Clamber Hill Inn in central Massachusetts, which meets all of my objectives. It's only two hours from Dartmouth and has several romantic rooms to choose from, including pre-made 'romance packages.' Within half an hour of finding out about the place, I've booked us in to the Charleston Room at the inn for two weeks from now.

I call Mrs. Gale after the romantic weekend is booked, hoping that the apartment is still available. It was so much better than either of the other two, and I really want to live there. Although, if I'm being honest with myself, I'd live in a cardboard box before I started another month in the apartment next to Tanya's.

"Timberwoods Commons," a friendly voice chirps through the phone.

"Mrs. Gale?"

"Yes, this is she."

"This is Edward Cullen. I looked at one of your two-bedroom units last night?"

"Of course, Mr. Cullen. I remember." I can almost hear the smile in her voice. She really is a very friendly woman.

"Yes, well, I was hoping that apartment is still available. I'm very interested in it."

"It is."

"Perfect. Can I bring you the deposit money now?"

"Absolutely. I'll be in the office until five, but of course, the sooner the better."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gale. I'll be there in the next half hour."

I grab my checkbook and hurry out to my car. On my way, I check the mail; there's a letter from American Express in the box. I'm curious, but I don't want to risk the Timberwoods apartment, so I toss the AmEx envelope, as well as my power bill and some other miscellaneous junk mail that was in my box, on the passenger seat as I slide in. I wish I could take Bella to see the new place now, but I know she's not available. Frankly, I only have a few minutes available myself before I have to get back to my late class. I'll just take her over in a couple of days.

Ten minutes later, I enter the office of the apartment complex. As promised, Mrs. Gale is sitting behind the desk. Her eyes light up when she sees me. "Mr. Cullen," she greets, standing and reaching one hand across the desk.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Mrs. Gale."

"Of course." She grins. "I've got all the paperwork right here. I just need your John Hancock and a check, and you'll be all set."

"Great."

We go over the lease agreement—it's very basic, nothing I haven't signed before. When we're done, Mrs. Gale asks, "When are you thinking about moving in? Now, or on the first of the month?"

"If the security deposit will hold the place, I think the first would be easier. That'll give me time to wrap things up where I live now."

"Completely understandable. Just bring me another check anytime between now and then, and I'll get you the keys. This," she says, gesturing toward the check I just wrote for the deposit, which is now lying on her desk, "will be fine for keeping the place. I won't rent it out from under you." She smiles reassuringly.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

We shake hands again, and I rise from my chair, tossing her a grin of my own.

My four o'clock class goes smoothly—it helps that the teacher, Professor Goldman, is one of my favorites. When he releases us at five, I call Bella as I walk across the courtyard. She told me after lunch that her last class ended at three, so I know I won't catch her at a completely bad time. It's possible she'll want to spend time with Becca, but I at least want to invite her over.

"Hi!" she squeals into the phone.

"Hey there," I reply, grinning. "Sounds like your afternoon was better than your morning."

"Oh, yes. So much better. No Skankya in any of my classes."

I burst out laughing. "What did you just say?"

"Tanya. Isn't that what I said?"

"No. You said 'Skankya.'" I snicker at my own voice saying the derisive nickname. I have to admit, it's clever.

"Oh. Oops." She doesn't sound at all remorseful.

I shake my head, trying to control the laughter. "Anyway, I was just wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. We can eat at my place and hang out."

"That sounds great. When do you want to meet?"

"Well, my last class just got out. I can be at your dorm in about three minutes, and we can leave from there."

"Perfect," she says happily. "See you in a couple of minutes."

"Okay." I end the call and walk just a little quicker over to Delaney Hall.

I greet Bella with a kiss and Becca with a smile when I get there, and within just a couple of minutes, Bella and I leave. "Don't wait up," she tells Becca with a smirk as she shuts the door behind us.

Back at my place, Bella asks, "What's for dinner? I'm starved."

I laugh. "Not wasting any time, are you?"

She blushes. "Sorry. Lunch was just a long time ago."

It was barely six hours ago that we ate lunch, but I know Bella was distracted during the meal, and she barely ate anything. That's the real reason she's so hungry now. "I was thinking we could cook something together," I suggest. "Do you cook much?" _Yet another thing I don't know about her. _

"I'm not a pro or anything, but I do okay for myself. I learned how to cook a killer omelet on a Bunsen burner during my early years at Florida."

I laugh out loud. "Well, we can do omelets if you want, but I'm afraid I don't have a Bunsen burner—just a pesky electric stove."

"Ah, well…" she shrugs, grinning "…you have to work with what's available."

_I love this woman._ The thought, though not new or even unexpected, hits out of nowhere. I back her up against the door and trap her there, one of my hands on either side of her head. I watch as her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, and with that one small movement, I'm done for. Slowly, I lean in and press my lips against hers, moving gently at first, then with more and more insistency. Within seconds, she's opened to me, and I willingly invade her mouth. Our tongues stroke against each other, and she groans. The vibration shoots straight to my groin, and I'm hard instantly.

I tilt my hips toward her, and she lifts one leg up, hooking her knee over my hip. I moan into her mouth and move my hands down from their posts on the wall beside her head; one cups her ass, the other slips up her blouse and kneads her breast. Her nipple hardens in my hand, and I can't help but smile against her mouth. The involuntary reaction of her body against mine is a wake-up call, though, and I pull back from her mouth. While there's something to be said for spontaneity, I don't want Bella to think the only reason I brought her here tonight is to sleep with her. Especially after the words we exchanged just last night.

I sigh heavily. "It's getting harder and harder to keep my hands off of you."

"Then don't." She gazes up at me suggestively.

A growl rips through my chest. I force myself to step back; if I don't, I know things will progress to the bedroom tonight. And I'm not convinced I'll be able to stop myself again. It was pure torture last time.

"You know I want nothing more than to be with you that way, Bella, but… God! How is it possible that it's only been three weeks? I feel like we've been together so much longer than that!"

"I know. Me, too." Her voice is quiet, contemplative.

I lean in and place a close-mouthed kiss on her lips, then step back again right away. "Come on. Let's go make those omelets."

Cooking with Bella is fun. I shred cheese while she dices ham and peppers. When the inner ingredients are cooked (who knew you had to cook that stuff?), she shows me the art of first beating the eggs in a bowl, then slowly pouring them into the buttered pan. When they start to set up, she lifts up the edge and tilts the pan to allow some of the uncooked portion to slide underneath. "It's easier than trying to flip them when they're still really runny on top," she explains.

"Whatever you say," I murmur, wrapping my arms around her waist and nuzzling her hair.

A moment later, she grabs a turner from the drawer next to my stove and with an expert's touch, flips the eggs over perfectly. "Now we add the other ingredients." Her voice falters, as if she's distracted by the way I'm holding her, but she moves steadily to add the ham mixture and a small handful of cheese to one half of the egg circle, then folds it over on itself and tops it with a bit more cheddar. "As soon as the cheese melts, it's done."

"Looks delicious," I say, but I'm not looking at the food.

She carefully slides the omelet out of the pan a moment later, and starts the second one. She covers the first one with foil to keep it hot while she cooks the second one, and five minutes later, we're sitting at the table with the eggs and toast.

One bite of Bella's omelet and all suggestive thoughts leave my mind immediately. It's the best I've ever had, including the multiple times I've ordered this same thing in a diner. I tell her so.

"Thanks," she replies, blushing slightly. "I must admit, though, it is easier to cook eggs with a real stove than an illegal Bunsen burner in a dorm."

"I can imagine," I say, laughing.

When the food's gone and the dishes are cleared, there's a sudden knock on the front door. Bella's eyebrows narrow in confusion.

"What the hell?" I mutter. "This building is secure."

I open the door and am surprised—though I probably shouldn't be—to see Tanya standing there with a steak on a paper plate. "Dinner?" she asks sweetly, trying to step into my apartment. I adjust my stance to keep her out.

"No, thanks. I just ate," I tell her coldly.

"There's always room for steak." She bats her eyelashes at me.

I roll my eyes. "No, Tanya. You need to turn your little butt around and go back to your own apartment."

She pouts, but miraculously does as I ask without further argument.

I shut the door behind her and lock it securely, including the chain, on the off chance she made a copy of the key before she moved out.

"So, when are you moving?" Bella asks from behind me.

"On the first," I assure her. "Not a day later. I'll even hire movers if I have to, to make sure it doesn't take any longer than that to get out of here." My hands ball into fists at my side. I can't believe Tanya's tenacity. It's appalling.

Bella looks like she's calculating something. "The first… so that's in about a week and a half. Not too much longer." She smiles. "Do you want to have some fun with Tanya tonight? I just got a wicked idea." Her eyes gleam mischievously.

"What are you thinking, beautiful?"

"Well, she's home, you're home, and I'm here. Let's just remind her exactly how 'over her' you are."

"I'm still not quite following you, Bella." I can feel the confusion marring my features.

"Fake sex, Edward! You said her living room shares a wall with your bedroom, right? So let's go back there and bang things around—yell, moan, whatever it takes to make her think we're totally going at it. It'll be awesome."

"Are you kidding me?" This is the craziest thing I've ever heard of.

"Oh, no. Maybe if she hears us through the wall, she'll finally get it through her thick head that you don't want her anymore. Plus, it'll be fun. Not as fun as the real thing, but pretty fun anyway."

I look at her, trying to figure out where this insane idea is coming from. But then I decide it doesn't matter. "Let's go."

**~SN~**

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter should be fun! Who thinks Tanya should get coal in her stocking for Christmas? *raises both hands* What do you guys think of Jordin?**

**Sarita has a novella coming out in January called _Red Kryptonite_. It will be posted weekly until finished—no waiting since it's mostly written already. The first chapter is up on this profile as a teaser, so if it's something that interests you, please add to alerts.**

**Follow us on Twitter! (at) wmr1601 and (at) SaritaDreaming / (at) SarahAisling**

**~*Wishing all of our awesome readers and their families Happy Holidays!*~**


	21. Chapter 19 Easy A

**A/N: Hey, everyone! We apologize for the extended delay in getting this chapter out. The holidays and real life have thrown us for a loop. Hopefully, we'll be back on track now.**

**As always, thanks to Caz, Keye, and Sandy, our prereaders and friends, for all their valuable feedback and suggestions. Huge thanks to our beta, Perry (Perrymaxed), for keeping Sarita's abuse of the word _that_ under control *cough* along with her talent for trimming the unnecessary stuff. Mwah! **

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**Chapter 19**

**~Easy A~**

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**~*Bella*~**

Hearing Tanya's seductive voice at Edward's door reminds me she's not about to give up her fight to get him back. She's _not_ going to play fair, and she doesn't give a shit who gets hurt in her plight to win him over.

After all that's happened recently, I'm confident even if I wasn't here tonight, Edward would have turned Tanya away at the door. He loves me, not her. It's the only thing that stops me from rushing the door and yanking Tanya's perfectly coiffed hair out—although, the thought causes my fingers to twitch with desire.

Edward gets rid of her quickly, closing the door and methodically engaging all the locks.

"So, when are you moving?" I ask, smirking.

I'm thrilled to hear he's moving out on the first. An evil idea forms in my mind, and I simply can't resist copying a scene from _Easy A_.

At first when I suggest it, Edward looks at me like I'm nuts, but he quickly warms to the idea.

"Let's go," he says, suddenly scooping me up in his arms.

A carefree laugh bubbles out of me as Edward runs up the hall to the bedroom and tosses me on his bed. He looks down at me mischievously, and I wonder what he's thinking. I find out a second later when he lands hard on the bed, both of us bouncing a few inches into the air, and starts tickling me.

"Ed-_ward_! Oh, my God... stop!"

"Make me," comes the answer, his long fingers easily reaching all my most ticklish spots.

I laugh so hard, I have to gasp for air. "Please... _please..._"

"Mm-mm, beg me, baby," Edward taunts, leaning over me.

I'm trapped under his body, and I can't wriggle free. He has complete control over me and can keep tickling me as long as he wants to. Digging my heel into the bed for leverage, I try to buck him off me, and the headboard bangs into the wall in the process.

The sound startles us both, Edward's fingers freezing on my ribcage, and we look at each other for a moment.

"You'll pay for that ticklefest, Mister," I warn.

"Oh? And how do you intend to collect?" His green eyes dance with amusement, and I quickly forget about making him pay, grabbing his face and stretching up to meet his lips with mine.

We kiss long and hard, and when we break away, we're both breathless. I rake my nails over his abs, and he reaches back, pulling his shirt over his head so my fingers can explore his heated skin more freely.

"If that's how you make me pay, I don't think I've been punished severely enough," he rasps.

"That's not your punishment. I just couldn't resist kissing you."

"I'll take that." A lazy smirk spreads across his handsome face, and I can't resist caressing his cheek. He gazes down at me. "I thought we were supposed to be putting on a show for Skankya."

I giggle at the mention of Tanya's new nickname, happy Edward has adopted it as well.

"You're right... so do me, big boy. Give me all the juice you've got." I look up at him and lick my lips suggestively.

Edward stands up on the bed, offering me his hand. Once we're facing each other in the middle of the bed, we start bouncing lightly, our fingers entwined. The springs groan lightly, and we slowly increase the pace until the headboard lightly hits the wall a few times.

"Oh, yeah... just like that," I whimper, tossing my hair around.

We increase our movements, the headboard banging against the wall louder and harder.

"Ungh, Bella..." Edward calls out.

I close my eyes, allowing the sounds of pseudo-sex to surround me. If I stare at Edward while we bounce, it's hard to keep myself from laughing, but with my eyes closed, I can almost imagine he _is_ in the throes of passion, the sexy sounds he makes sending a tingling jolt between my legs. I start fantasizing about him pounding into me, and my head falls back, a long, low moan coming out of me.

Suddenly I don't care as much about Tanya, and I sweep my leg against the back of his knees, knocking him to the bed.

"What the—" he exclaims breathlessly as his back hits the mattress.

Taking advantage of his surprise, I quickly strip off my shirt and straddle his body, bringing my lips down on his, effectively swallowing his words. I push my tongue into his already open mouth, and he catches on quick, kissing me back.

"Mm-mm..." His tongue vibrates against mine, and my panties grow damp.

I quickly unsnap my bra, tossing it to the floor.

Edward's hands reach for my hips as I start grinding on his rapidly growing hard-on. He guides me into a rhythm, and I ride him hard, our mouths locked together.

Now the headboard knocks against the wall for real, and Tanya is the last thing on my mind.

Despite his jeans and my yoga pants between us, the dry humping rapidly sends me heading for orgasm.

Breaking away from his lips, I lift my upper body, causing our pelvises to mash together even harder. I throw my head back, unable to control the breathless moans coming out of me.

Edward groans loudly, taking the opportunity to knead my breasts in his palms, rolling my nipples roughly between his thumb and index fingers, sending a thrill shooting to my center. "God, Bella..." His green eyes flame hotly, and I know when we finally do make love, it'll be mind-blowing.

Everything comes together—the sensation of his rough hands on my naked skin, his straining cock grinding between my legs, the powerful feeling of being the one in control, the smoldering look in his eyes as he gazes back boldly—and I fall over the edge, screaming out his name as I come apart.

With a growl, Edward flips our positions, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. Holding himself above me, he starts thrusting his hips, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Ungh, Bella... I love you so much."

"I love you, too." I scrape my fingers over the rippling muscles of his back, and he hisses. The headboard hits the wall harder as Edward's hips continue to flex against me, and I feel heat coiling in my abdomen. "God... I'm going to come again..." I moan just as another orgasm overtakes me, and I cry out incoherently.

Edward mashes his mouth against mine, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, our tongues joining together. He stiffens suddenly, throwing his head back and letting out the sexiest moan as he comes.

Collapsing on top of me, our naked chests pressed together, his lips find mine again, kissing me slowly this time. He licks at my lip where he bit it. "Sorry, beautiful," he whispers against my mouth. "I wanted you so badly, I got a little carried away."

"Don't be. Never be sorry for showing me how much you want me."

Edward lifts his head, and our eyes meet and hold. "Bella, we haven't even made love yet, and I feel... so much with you. It..." He falters, shaking his head slightly. "...scares me how intense my emotions are. I didn't even know it was possible to feel quite like this."

"That makes two of us." Tears prick my eyes as I look up into his vulnerable face, and I feel just as raw and wide open. I'm scared, too, but I won't let that hold me back from giving all of me to Edward. Too much time has already gone by. "I love you so much, Edward."

He leans in to kiss me slow and deep. Eventually, I hear banging over the rushing in my ears. Edward hears it, too, and lifts his head, tilting it to the side.

A sudden crash from next door is accompanied by a primal scream, more slamming, and the tinkle of broken glass.

Edward and I look at each other and break into quiet laughter.

"I guess she got our message," he muses.

"Honestly, I forgot all about her, but yeah, it seems so." I stifle a giggle.

The sound of screaming and destruction goes on for about ten minutes. Soon after, we hear Tanya's shrill voice rising and falling as she rants and raves. Based on the brief silences, we surmise she's on the phone with someone.

A knock sounds at the door, and we look at each other, startled.

"She wouldn't dare," I whisper, leaping off the bed.

"Bella!" Edward calls out, racing after me.

"Don't try to stop me."

"I'm not, but you're still topless."

I stop and turn around to see Edward shaking with laughter. Slapping him on his bare chest, I grab his hoodie and pull it over my head as I make a beeline for the front door.

When I open it, I'm ready for a fight, but I'm met with the sight of a police officer instead, his hand poised in the air to knock again. He appears to be in his early thirties with light brown hair, blue eyes, and a baby face. He reminds me of Mike, and I feel a small twinge in my gut.

"Oh!"

"Good evening, Miss. We received a call about a disturbance on this floor."

"Y-You did?"

"We did." The officer looks over my shoulder. "Can you please step outside the apartment?" His voice has gone from friendly to brusque and businesslike, his eyes turning steely.

"What?"

"Step out. Sir, you need to remain where you are."

"What's this about?" Edward's confused voice comes from behind me, and I glance back with my eyebrows raised.

"Miss, please step out in the hallway."

"Okay..." I walk out the door slowly, shooting another confused glance at Edward, who remains where the officer told him to.

"I'm Officer Kraus. Your name is?"

"Bella. Bella Swan."

Leaning in close, Officer Kraus speaks in a hushed tone. "Has he hurt you?"

"Who?"

His keen blue eyes look me over carefully, and then he points at Edward. "Him."

"No, of course not!"

He looks down at me with obvious doubt, and then his eyes slide back to Edward. I follow his gaze, and suddenly realize he's taking in Edward's bruised knuckles and the red mark on his bare chest where I smacked him.

Unable to help myself, I giggle. "You thought I was a battered woman!" For whatever reason, this tickles my funny bone, and I start laughing.

"Are you?" Officer Kraus is clearly not amused.

"No!"

"How did his knuckles get bruised?"

His question sobers me, and I hesitate.

"Officer—" Edward begins, taking a few steps forward.

"Sir, remain where you are. I want the answer from Miss Swan." His eyes move between Edward and me a few more times. "Miss, would you like to come downstairs with me?" he asks gently.

"Whatever for?"

"Maybe a little distance..."

"Listen, I don't know what you're thinking, but I don't need any distance from Edward. I'm pretty sure the call you received is for 2F. Crazy bitch has been in there screaming and throwing things for the past half-hour."

"Is that so? Then why did you hesitate when I asked you about his bruises?"

"He just... he punched a wall."

"I see. And he did this because he was happy?"

"He was pissed off at our neighbor."

"Does he often lose it over neighbors?"

"No, only when they're psycho ex-fiancées who rent the apartment right next door on purpose," I answer, shooting a dirty look toward 2F, which is suspiciously quiet now.

Officer Kraus' eyebrows go up. "Well, _that's _a new one."

"It shouldn't take _too_ long to clear things up; she's sure to have her ear pressed to the door," I say scathingly.

"I'll just head over there then. Sorry I disturbed your evening, folks."

"Thank you, Officer. I'm sure a lot of women are safer because of your caution." I smile up at him, relieved he believes us.

"Just doing my job." His face flushes as he heads over to Tanya's apartment and knocks.

Closing and locking the door, Edward and I stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into muffled laughter. We hold onto each other as tears stream from our eyes. I'm pretty sure we're both a little hysterical with relief at this point.

"Want to grab a snack?" Edward asks suddenly, drawing me into the kitchen.

"What an odd time to eat!" I giggle.

"Honestly? The kitchen is the center of my apartment, and I feel safest here from prying ears."

"Oh, okay. God, Edward, he thought you were abusing me." I still speak in a hushed whisper. "And then he sees you shirtless... your knuckles... the red mark on your chest!"

"I know, right? But the best part? _You _almost answered the door topless!"

"Holy shit! You're right!"

And then we both lose all sense of decorum and howl with laughter, clutching onto each other.

A cup of hot chocolate and a movie later, I'm slumped in Edward's arms falling asleep. His embrace feels so safe and warm, and I can't imagine belonging to anyone else so completely.

"Stay with me?" he murmurs softly in my hair.

"Mm-hm," I agree sleepily.

He lifts me in his arms and carries me to his bed, tucking me under the covers. His fingers lightly brush over my forehead, followed by his lips. "Sleep well, beautiful."

"What about you?" I mumble.

"I'll be along soon. I just have a few more things to do."

"Okay. Love you."

"And I love you. More than anything, Bella."

The next morning, neither of us has class until eleven, so we lounge in bed, making out like teenagers. Edward leaves for a few minutes only to get some fresh fruit from the fridge, and we feed it to each other, licking the juice that runs over our bare skin, which just leads to more making out.

We end up a sticky mess and decide to shower together. We take turns washing each other, and I thoroughly enjoy Edward's fingers massaging my scalp as he washes my hair. There's something so intimate about showering together even though we didn't fool around... much.

As I dress, I contemplate what it would be like to live with Edward. I know intellectually it's too soon, but my heart isn't governed by the same restrictions. I want this—to wake up with Edward every morning, to shower together, eat together, come home to him at the end of the day, sleep in his arms each night.

My chest feels heavy when I think of being apart from him, and it has nothing to do with the fact Tanya lives next door; I know he wants nothing to do with her. No, this is strictly about us.

"Penny for your deep ones."

Startled, I glance over at the bedroom door. Edward, already dressed for the day, leans against the doorjamb watching me carefully.

"Just thinking about my schedule for today. I need to stop back at my room and get my stuff before class."

"Come on. I'll drop you off on my way to class."

Edward lets me off in front of Delaney Hall, leaning over to kiss me softly. We agree to meet up this afternoon so he can show me his new apartment.

I take the stairs up to my floor. Just before I get to my room, a door on the other side of the hallway opens.

"...can't believe he would..." Tanya emerges with red-rimmed eyes, her face swollen from crying. When she sees me, she stops in her tracks, and Jordin bumps into her.

"Tanya, what the hell?" Jordin's dark eyes come to rest on me. "_You_."

I turn away, fitting my key into the lock of the dorm room. It's too much to hope it could end there.

Jordin strides up to me, leaning in close. "It won't be long before Edward comes to his senses, bitch. He'll toss you away like yesterday's newspaper."

I turn to face Jordin, noticing Tanya is no longer in the hall. "It seems birds of a feather _do_ flock together—you and Tanya seem to be cut from the same cloth." I lean even closer until we're almost nose-to-nose. "Back off! My relationship with Edward has nothing to do with you." I sneer.

"Wrong. Tanya is my friend, and when someone breaks her heart, I _make_ it my business."

"You need to _have_ a heart before somebody can break it. You have no idea what Tanya did to us back in high school!"

"Save the sob story. I'm putting you on warning. You don't want to mess with me."

Jordin turns to walk away, but I grasp her arm. "From where I stand, _you're_ messing with me."

"Let go of me!" She snarls at me, her dark eyes glittering with hatred.

The door to my room opens, and Becca sticks her head out. "Hey, Bella! Missed you last night."

Jordin snorts. "I'll bet."

I take the opportunity to slip inside the room and slam the door. Leaning my back on it, I breathe a sigh of relief and start praying Tanya's not in any of my classes today.

"Bella, what the hell was going on out there?" Becca stage-whispers.

"The start of World War III, apparently. Tanya and Jordin have decided to tag-team me. Tanya keeps trying to seduce Edward, and Jordin has appointed herself the protector of Tanya's blackened heart. Lucky me."

"Shit. The WWF comes to Dartmouth. Sounds like you're in for an interesting ride. I'd say I hope Edward is worth all the trouble, but I can already tell that he is. Hold tight, Bella. You guys will be okay."

"You promise?"

We laugh, and I grab Becca into a hug.

My luck holds, and I don't see Tanya in any of my classes. By the time I meet up with Edward, I feel much better, and I can almost laugh about what happened this morning.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

Dropping Bella off at her dorm, knowing Jordin is likely to be nearby, is some kind of torture for me. A voice in the back of my head questions the use of the word 'torture,' wondering if it's a bit melodramatic. I tell it to shut up. I feel oddly protective of Bella, in a way I never did with Tanya. It's not that I think she needs it, either; there's just something so much _more _in our relationship that I want to preserve. And knowing that Jordin—and quite possibly Tanya, considering she and Jordin are best friends—are up there, right where I've just sent Bella… well, it makes me want to turn around and follow her.

"Hey, Edward!"

I turn and see my friend, Eric, hurrying to catch up with me as I stride through the courtyard toward class. I slow down so he can reach me.

"How's it going, man?" I ask as he falls into step beside me.

"Good, good. I hear your Spring Break was a lot more exciting than mine."

I sigh and rub one hand over my face. I'd asked Eric to be one of my groomsmen at the wedding, but he couldn't make the trip and had to decline. Since this is the first time I've seen him since getting back three days ago, and he's already heard about the botched wedding, I guess it's fair to say that my friends have been talking.

"Definitely not what I expected, that's for sure."

"No doubt. So, who's the chick who interrupted the nuptials?"

_The love of my life _would probably be a bit much to drop on Eric just yet. "A girl from high school." It's not a lie, but it feels like one; Bella's so much more than that to me.

"Jealous ex?" He sounds like he's trying to piece things together; Eric, like nearly everyone else, thought Tanya and I were perfect together.

"Not exactly. I never really dated her back then, but we had a couple of classes together. We hooked up at a party, but then I saw her with another guy that same night."

"Ouch!" He visibly cringes.

"Yeah. Tanya was there to pick up my pieces, so to speak, and the rest is history. Or at least, it was, until Bella showed up at the wedding with a tape recording that proved she was innocent and Tanya was the real guilty one."

"What?" Eric stops mid-stride and looks at me. This is obviously not what he expected to hear when he joined me for the walk to class this morning.

"I'm not going to go into the hairy details, Eric. I'm not a member of the Tanya Fan Club anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm going to gossip about her, whether or not what I say is true."

He looks stunned. "Sure, man, I get that. I respect it, too. Most other guys in your situation would be all about making the ex look like a bitch. You're a stand-up guy, though, Edward. All about protecting everyone." He grins, and we begin walking again.

I shrug lightly. We walk in silence until we get to the building with all the business classes. When he follows me into Professor Simmons' class, I ask, "You're in this class?"

"Yep."

"Oh. I didn't see you on Monday."

"Stomach bug," he says by way of explanation.

"Ah."

We find seats together just as the professor begins to speak.

**~SN~**

My last class of the afternoon lets out five minutes early—almost unheard of at Dartmouth, but I accept it as a little gift. It allows me to hurry to Bella's class and wait for her in the hallway. I lean back casually against one of the interior brick walls and prop one foot up behind me. One of my textbooks is carefully perched on my palms, and I'm lost in the material when she kisses me on the cheek. I blink to clear my head and turn to her, smiling broadly. "Hey, beautiful."

"Hey yourself. What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, of course."

"I see that, but I thought you had class, too."

"The professor let us out a couple of minutes early, so I thought I'd surprise you."

"Well, mission accomplished." She grins.

I shove the book into my bag and take her hand, leading her out the door into the bright spring sun. "Do you need to stop by your dorm before we head over to the new apartment?"

She looks thoughtful. "I don't think so. I'd better bring my books in case I end up needing to study at your place tonight."

I grin at the idea. She's planning for the contingency of staying over again. That makes me—as well as certain parts of my anatomy—very happy. "Great."

I drive us through town, past my current apartment and all the downtown things that are nearby—I'll miss being within walking distance of The Pit Stop, but I remind myself it's a small price to pay considering—until we reach the edge of town. Just before Hanover ends, I turn into the parking lot of the new place. Bella looks around, awed.

"This is so… different from the other place."

"Yeah, it is. It'll be a bit of a change but totally worth it."

It's not until I pull into the visitor spot that I remember I don't have a key yet. "Crap," I mutter.

"What's wrong?"

"I told Mrs. Gale—she's the landlady here—that I wasn't going to move in until the first, so I didn't pay the rent yet, only the deposit. Which means I don't have a key."

"Oh." Bella looks mildly surprised, and dare I say… disappointed?

"You know what? Let's go talk to her. I'll cut a check for the rest of this month's rent. That'll allow me to start moving stuff over now instead of then anyway."

"Edward, you don't have to do that." She pauses, reaching for my hand to hold me back.

"No, it's fine, Bella. A good thing, even." I smile reassuringly at her.

"Are you sure?" She doesn't look convinced.

"Yes." I'm resolute in this decision. There's really no reason to delay things. My trust fund is big enough to cover the expense, both of the extra weeks of rent here and the fee to break the lease at my other place, without mattering at all.

"Okay." She frowns but follows me to the office.

"Mr. Cullen," Mrs. Gale gushes when I enter the office amidst the tinkling of the jingle bells attached to the inside of the doorknob. "How nice to see you again."

I take her proffered hand and return the greeting. "Mrs. Gale, this is my girlfriend, Bella. Bella, this is Mrs. Gale. She's the manager here." A quick, simple introduction is just right, and Mrs. Gale shakes Bella's hand as well.

"What can I do for you?" She takes her seat behind the desk again and smiles warmly at us.

"Well, I've had a slight change of heart."

Her face falls.

"No, no, not that. I definitely still want the apartment. I'd just like to pay the prorated rent and start moving in right away instead of waiting until the first."

"Oh, that's excellent news." Mrs. Gale's grin lights up the room brighter than the fluorescent bulbs above our heads. "I'll get the lease agreement and keys. Have a seat." She gestures toward the set of chairs in front of her desk. She disappears into a back room, and Bella and I sit. Mrs. Gale returns about a minute later, clutching a small packet of papers and two keys. "It's a standard lease agreement; there shouldn't be anything in there that's not in the lease you probably have at your current apartment. Of course, I don't expect you to sign without reading, so take your time."

She hands me the papers and sits back in her black office chair. One quick glance tells me she's right; in fact, not only is it not that different from my current contract, but it's the exact same one, clear down to the office store logo in the lower left corner that indicates this was a purchased contract, not one that was drafted by the owner of the complex and/or owner's lawyer. I smile to myself and skim the document. Then once again, just so Mrs. Gale doesn't think I take this lightly by having read it so quickly. When I'm done with the second skim, I lift my eyes to hers and offer her a lopsided grin. "Looks great. Do you have a pen I can borrow?"

"Of course." She fumbles around in one of her desk drawers before presenting me with a standard Bic ballpoint.

I hastily scrawl my name on the line on the bottom of the contract, then sloppily write out a check for the right amount and slide both across the desk toward her. She signs her name on the lease. I watch the pen move across the paper and have to suppress the laughter when I read what she's just written: Dorothy Gale. Just when I don't think I'll be able to keep the snickers in any longer, she looks up at me with a twinkle in her eye. "You're all set, Mr. Cullen." She holds out the keys, and I take them from her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Gale." I press my mouth into a hard line to keep the laughter in check. A quick glance at Bella tells me she saw the older woman's signature, too. Her eyes dance mischievously. We exit the office quickly.

As soon as we're outside, we both let go. The guffaws are loud, and my eyes water. I look at Bella and see her wipe tears from her face as well. "Is she from Kansas or Oz?" Bella gasps between giggles.

"Oh, my God, I don't even know. I honestly didn't know her first name before now. That's got to be one of the most ironic names I've ever heard, though."

"Me, too!"

A few deep breaths later, we both feel better. It suddenly hits me that Mrs. Gale may have heard us making fun of her name. I look at the office window; nothing's moving there, so I quickly lead Bella away.

Once we're inside the empty apartment, I show Bella around. When we get to the bedrooms, I say, "This one will be the home office. And this one—" I lead her across the hall to the other bedroom "—will be our room."

She looks up at me with huge doe eyes, almost daring me to retract my statement. I'm not going to, though; those words were deliberate. I'm convinced that Bella will be living here with me before long.

"Our room?" she whispers when I don't say anything more.

"Yes. I know you keep saying you're happy in the dorm and you don't think you're ready to move in with me. But, Bella, I know we belong together, and I have no doubt that you'll be sharing this apartment with me before the school year's over."

Her gaze drops to the floor, but she doesn't contradict me. "Wow," she murmurs to her feet.

"Come on." I take her hand and lead her back down the short hallway to the empty living room. We sit side by side against the wall, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders. We stay that way for several minutes, just silently cuddling. I wonder idly what she's thinking about but don't dwell on it too much. My thoughts are on the Clamber Hill Inn and the weekend I'm planning for us. I'd like to surprise her with the trip, but a memory furrows out from the back recesses of my brain, making itself known. It's not from very long ago—something Bella said on our way to the ice rink barely five days ago. '_I hate surprises.' _If she was skeptical about something as simple as an afternoon date, I cannot in good conscience keep this a total surprise. "Bella?"

"Hm?" She glances up at me as if I've just distracted her from her own thoughts.

"I want to take you somewhere."

"Oh." She looks surprised and moves to stand up. "Okay."

"No, beautiful, not now. Not yet, I mean. I want to take you for a romantic weekend away, Bella."

Her eyes widen and she looks at me, awed. "Why?"

"Because I love you." I offer her a smirk and a kiss to her temple. "I know you hate surprises, so I didn't want to spring the trip on you at the last second."

A slow smile stretches across her face. "You remembered."

"Of course I did. There are loads of things I _don't _know about you yet, but those that I do, I'm filing away to never forget."

"That's so thoughtful."

"Only the best for my girl." I pull her close to my side again, burying my nose in her hair. "So, I've arranged the trip for two weeks from now. I hope that works with your schedule."

After a moment's silence, she says, "Yeah, it does. My student teaching doesn't start for another month, and I'm almost positive I don't have any tests that Friday or Monday."

"Great." I kiss the top of her head. "Should we go back to the other apartment? The one with the furniture?" I laugh lightly.

"Hm. I kinda like this one, to be honest. No Skankya around."

I laugh loudly at that. "Fair point, Miss Swan. In that case, we'll need to order in some food since there are no dishes here yet."

"Who needs food?" she murmurs, stretching up to press her lips to mine. And I must say, when she does that, I completely agree with her.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: Who thinks Tanya busted a few blood vessels? (And vases) Any theories on how long it will be before Bella moves in with Edward?**

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**Follow us on Twitter: (at) wmr1601 and (at) SaritaDreaming / (at) SarahAisling **


	22. Chapter 20 The Getaway

**A/N: Hey, everyone! We're back! So sorry for the long delays—but you aren't interested in that. You want to read this chapter, and we hope the wait was worth it.**

**Thanks to our friends and prereaders, Caz, Keye, and Sandy, for the awesome feedback! And thanks to the awesomeness that is Perry Maxwell for the beta job. I think she finally convinced Sarita not to be "that" girl. Hehe.**

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**Chapter 20**

**~The Getaway~**

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**~*Bella*~**

The past few days have been strange. I haven't seen Tanya around Edward's apartment or the dorms, and she missed our shared classes. I keep waiting for something to happen, and the more time that passes without incident, the more my nerves jangle.

I only encountered Jordin once this week. She passed me in the hallway, a laundry basket resting against her hip. She glared at me with undisguised hatred but remained silent. I almost asked her where Tanya had crawled off to, but it didn't seem prudent to provoke her.

I spent two out of the past three nights sleeping in Edward's arms. He's become a habit I don't want to kick, but at the same time, I'm painfully aware we've only been together for a few weeks. Awareness of how one moment in time screwed up four years of our lives is also prevalent in my thoughts, and I decide to reserve judgment at least for a while longer.

Edward has been incredibly supportive. I see in his smoldering green eyes that he wants me, feel it in the rock of his pelvis against mine when we make out, but he never pushes or makes me feel like a tease. And I do want him, but a niggling part of me—like the proverbial devil on my shoulder—causes me to hold back. Of course, the thought of Tanya right next door isn't helpful. I'm excited Edward decided to move most of his stuff into the new place this weekend.

While sitting at the small table in my kitchen contemplating the complexities of life, I pour myself a bowl of Cheery-O's. Glancing at the red and white box with a smiling cereal 'O' on it, I roll my eyes, muttering, "How corny."

"Mornin'." Becca trudges into the kitchen wearing a pair of sunglasses, her hair a snarled disarray. Plopping into the chair opposite me, she lays her head down.

"Cheery-O's?"

She wraps her arms around her head, groaning in response.

"Are you hung over?" I ask, grinning as I scoop a spoonful of cereal. When I went to sleep last night, Becca was still out, and I assumed she might be staying with her boyfriend.

"Yeah. Jim took me to a party last night."

"Where was it? On campus?"

"Ha. No, off campus. Some friends of his rent a huge old house a few blocks from here. Not my favorite crew . . . parties get really wild, lots of drugs floating around, you know." Becca waves one hand as she talks, her head still resting on the other arm. "I saw _Tanya_ there, by the way."

The mention of Tanya's name piques my curiosity. "Really? Who was she with?"

"Not sure. She seemed to be in an intense conversation with Jason Albright, though." Her tone drips with disapproval.

"Who's he?"

"Trouble. He has a rep for supplying drugs at parties, and that's the only reason he gets invited. You'd be hard pressed to find anyone who will claim him as a friend."

"Why would Tanya be talking to him? She doesn't do drugs, does she?"

"Not that I know of, but Jason is the kind of unsavory character you don't want to get in bed with. Everything with him is for a price—a high one."

"What do you think she wanted with him if it wasn't drugs?"

"Bella, it can't be anything good. Just pray it has nothing to do with you and Edward."

She voices the very fear I don't want to contemplate, and I fight against the panic threatening to take hold. Tanya has proven over and over she has no ethics, so what's to stop her from partnering with a low-life drug dealer to get something she wants? _Nothing._

**~SN~**

This morning, I have an early class with Professor Collins. My stomach churns as I get closer to the room. Since the first day, he's been more professional with me but just barely. I try to fly under his radar as much as possible, and he seems happy enough with that arrangement so far.

I climb the risers along the side wall and settle myself in my usual seat about halfway up, just off center. Leaning my head in my hand, I feign interest in my binder as the room fills up. Just before the door is closed and locked—the professor really wasn't kidding about that—Tanya hurries in.

She's dressed impeccably as always, and her makeup and hair are flawless. Still, there's something off about her. Maybe it's the way she's walking and holding herself. I'm so used to her having a haughty air about her, but somehow she seems troubled, almost defeated. When her gaze comes to rest on me, all of that disappears in an instant. The corner of Tanya's lip lifts into a smile, but there's nothing friendly about it. Now that she's looking directly at me, I see her eyes are red-rimmed and slightly puffy despite her near-perfect make up job. Looking beyond yet another layer of her carefully constructed façade, I encounter pure ice. The hatred emanating from her incites an almost physical sensation that presses against my chest, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Time seems to slow, the sounds in the room fading out, and I feel trapped by her stare.

Tanya's gaze remains locked with mine as she reaches her seat and puts her things down. She stands there openly staring at me, and I find myself unable to look away. I'm not honestly sure how long this goes on, nor am I cognizant enough to ascertain if we're drawing attention from the other students.

The slamming of the door finally interrupts the stare-down.

Jumping, I look over at Professor Collins, who glances between Tanya and me but doesn't comment. He strolls casually to the podium and clears his throat.

"Ms. Denali? Are you prepared?"

"Yes, sir." Tanya nods her head and walks all the way to the end of the front row, holding her hand out to someone seated there.

In all the awkwardness, I didn't notice the girl with the straight cornsilk hair who accepts Tanya's proffered hand and rises to her feet.

"Aunt Titi!" she exclaims in an excited voice.

"Hi, Livy." Tanya's voice is soft and . . . tender?

Tanya leads her slowly to the front of the room. The girl is exquisite with a peaches and cream complexion, silken fall of blonde hair, and bright blue eyes that sparkle with energy and happiness. Her body is curvacious and ripe, a figure most women would be envious of. And yet, something isn't right about her. The outward appearance is suggestive of a nubile teenager, but the underlying aura is that of a young child.

The two of them clasp hands, and stand beside each other.

"This is Olivia Denali, my niece."

"Livy!" the girl bursts out, smiling guilelessly and slapping her free hand over her mouth.

"Yes, Livy." Tanya nods. "Can you tell the class how old you are, sweetie?"

"Thirteen," she says in a stage whisper as if it's a big secret she's not supposed to share.

"And did you know I'll be coming to your school in a few weeks to work in your class?"

"No! Really? Yay!" Livy grabs Tanya up in a hug.

I expect Tanya to push her away or look annoyed, but she hugs her back just as tightly. Before I can think more about this, there's a knock on the door and Tanya's sister, Kate, sticks her head inside.

"Mimi!" Livy squeals, rushing over to grab her hand. "Mimi, Aunt Titi is coming to work at _my_ school!"

Kate smiles gently, caressing Livy's cheek. "Yes, I know. Say goodbye to everyone now. It's time for us to go."

"'Bye, everybody!" Livy offers an exaggerated wave and allows Kate to lead her from the room.

Professor Collins nods to Tanya. "You have the floor."

Tanya stands up straight and begins speaking. "Livy is my sister Kate's daughter. She's thirteen years old and Autistic. Livy is the reason I decided to study Early Childhood Education in the first place. When it became apparent she wasn't your typical child, it was devastating to our family. Kate dealt with it like a trooper, despite being a single mother. I can't say I handled it all that well in the beginning.

"As time went on, I grew to love Livy and her innocent way of seeing the world. Many people shunned her because she was different, but I was determined to at least try to understand her and be able to communicate with her. And I want to help educate others in the hope more Autistic children can have better lives."

My mouth hangs open in shock. This is a side of Tanya Denali I would have bet money didn't exist.

"Livy is thirteen years old, and I'm sure you noticed she's a very beautiful young lady. Some girls like her are exploited because of their innocent nature. My goal is to bring more attention to this issue in order to reduce incidences of physical abuse.

"It's hard to fathom someone as sweet and pure as Livy being abused, but it happens more often than you might think."

Professor Collins takes his place next to Tanya. "Thank you, Ms. Denali. I think you've chosen a very rewarding path. Does anyone have questions?"

Several hands go up, and Tanya fields numerous questions. I don't hear any of them; I'm too busy trying to shake off my surprise.

Tanya Denali really _is_ human. She obviously cares for her niece, treats her and speaks about her with such affection. I have to admit wondering what business Tanya had studying Early Childhood Education, but now I understand.

After class, I walk across the green and sit against a tree, staring thoughtfully into the distance. The day is gray and chilly, and the air is still. A few drops of rain patter softly on the grass, but the branches above me provide shelter.

I'm not sure how I feel about Tanya having a softer side. All this time, I thought of her as evil incarnate. It's been easy for me to revel in stealing Edward back from her, and I still think she's an awful excuse for a human, but she does have another side to her. I saw how her eyes were bright with tears when she spoke about Livy. Tanya has feelings stirring deep beneath her icy exterior.

After classes are over for the day, Edward and I pick up a pizza and head over to the new place. He's been filling the car with boxes every time we go there, and at this point, there's an equal amount of belongings at both apartments.

We sit at the breakfast bar, eating our pizza. I feel his eyes on me several times, and he shoulders most of the conversation while I only half pay attention, offering only one-word answers and hums.

" . . . and your head's on fire."

I nod my head once, but then his words break through the fog. _My head's on fire?_

"What?" I glance up mid-bite.

Edward slides his hand under my hair to massage the back of my neck. "You haven't been listening. C'mon, beautiful, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You've barely spoken to me since we left school. What's going on?" His touch is gentle and his eyes earnest.

I feel bad he's worried about me, and I reach up to smooth his furrowed brow. Dropping my half-eaten slice of pizza on my plate, I wipe my mouth and sigh, looking down at my lap.

"Edward, I'm bothered about Tanya."

There's silence for a few seconds before he starts laughing. "O-kay . . . nothing new under the sun."

"This _is_ new stuff."

"Did she say something to you?" The crinkles around his eyes smooth, all humor gone.

"No. Well, I talked to Becca this morning. She was hung over from some big frat party last night, and she said Tanya was there with some guy, Jason Albright."

"She _what?_" Edward turns his body fully my way, his eyes blazing.

"You know him?"

"Everybody knows about that lowlife. If Tanya was consorting with him, it can't be good news. What the fuck?" He bangs his hand on the breakfast bar, and a vein throbs in his forehead. "Who knows what she's up to now."

"There's something else. Tanya brought her niece to class today."

"She did?" Surprise is evident on his face.

"Yeah. Livy is such a beautiful girl. It's disturbing to see someone who looks so . . . mature but is actually a budding woman trapped in a child's body."

"Yeah. Livy is the one who prompted Tanya's course of study. It is disconcerting if she's starting to look like a woman. She was always a pretty little girl."

"If? Haven't you seen her recently? Wasn't she at the wedding?"

"No. Livy doesn't like me. She would always cover her ears and start rocking whenever I was in the same room. Sometimes she would point at me and say, 'No, no. No good.' Guess she thought I was a bad guy." He shrugs.

"I can't imagine anyone thinking that about you." I smile at him, clasping his hand in mine. "So Tanya will be doing her internship at Livy's school."

"Really? Kate must have moved her up here. Interesting."

"Anyway, after seeing Tanya with her niece, it got me to thinking. I mean . . . Tanya is more human to me now. She's a person with feelings and desires."

Edward snorts. "Bella, of course she's human! Tanya does have _some_ redeeming qualities. I'd like to think I wouldn't have been with her otherwise, but don't let her altruistic side—small as it is—fool you. She's still a viper that will do anything to get what she wants. We can't _ever _forget what was done to us in high school. When it comes to Tanya, we need to keep our eyes wide open."

"You're right. For a moment I felt as if I did something wrong taking you away from her."

"Um . . . no. Let's not even go there. Please. We were meant to be, and not even Tanya Denali can prevent it." Edward reaches out to caress my face. "And on another note, I have a surprise for you."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Follow me." Covering my eyes, Edward leads me through the apartment. "Ready?"

I nod, and he uncovers my eyes. We're in the master bedroom. Yesterday it was still devoid of all decoration, but now there are curtains on the windows and a bed made up with the comforter set he bought from Target.

"You moved your bed here?"

"No, this is the new bed I ordered. I had them deliver it this afternoon when I had a break between classes." Turning me around, he holds me by the shoulders. "Bella, I'll never spend another night in that apartment or sleep in the bed I shared with Tanya again. I know I'm moving in this weekend, but I didn't want to wait any longer."

I notice my duffel bag on the floor next to the closet. "Is that my bag?"

"It sure is. I'm hoping to lure you into my den tonight. Will you spend the first night in my new bed with me?"

"There's nowhere I'd rather be."

A few hours later, I'm snuggled up in the new bed with Edward's arms around me. I nuzzle my face into his bare chest, placing a kiss over his heart.

We chat about everything going on in our classes, with friends, his plans to have the movers come this weekend. I recall seeing a letter from American Express sitting on the counter earlier, so I ask him about it.

"Oh, that. Well, Amex said although Tanya should have known better than to put charges on my card once the wedding was off, they can't _force_ her to pay it back because _I_ was remiss for not calling them to cancel the card immediately—as if that's what I was thinking about at that moment! In any case, they do feel it's her responsibility to pay it back, and they're sending her a letter to that effect. If she agrees to pay it back, the matter will be closed. If not, then I'm responsible."

"Wow. Do you think she'll pay it back?"

"Now that all depends on her mood at the time and what she thinks she might get out of it. Tanya rarely does anything without some kind of ulterior motive." Edward rolls us over until he's hovering over me. "But, Bella? No more talk about Tanya in my bed. I'm far more interested in exploring my gorgeous girlfriend's . . . assets."

Pulling the covers over our heads, he does just that—until we only have four hours left to sleep before we have to get up for class.

**~SN~**

On Saturday, the movers come and load up the truck. Tanya doesn't make an appearance, and by dinnertime, Edward and I are in his new home. There are still boxes everywhere, but he's finally out of the Wilson Street apartment for good. Exhausted from the activities of the day, we fall into his bed wrapped in each other's arms and sleep like the dead. It's a really good feeling.

The next few days go by in a blur. I'm extremely busy between studying and helping Edward unpack things in his new apartment. I only have one class with Tanya and manage to escape any confrontation. Since I stay with Edward every night except one, I haven't been exposed to Jordin or her mean girl mentality, either. Overall, I'd say it's been a very good week.

My ruminations are interrupted by the voice of my boyfriend.

"Are you okay? You've been awfully quiet." Our hands are linked together over the console of Edward's Audi, and he squeezes mine gently, bringing me back to the present.

"I'm fine. Just thinking about the past few weeks. So much has happened. It's just . . . my head is spinning a little."

"In some good ways, I hope."

"Definitely. Lots of great things have happened—not the least of which is you aren't living next door to Tanya anymore."

"And how about the fact that we're on our way to the inn for a romantic weekend . . . all alone?" Edward glances over at me, his green eyes sparkling.

"Um . . . yeah, that's pretty terrific." I blush to the roots of my hair, glancing out the window.

A few minutes later, we turn onto the drive leading to the Clamber Hill Inn. We're greeted by the sight of rolling green lawns leading up to a beautiful mansion sided with silvered brown shingles and set off by numerous windows and peaked dormers.

"Oh, it's beautiful, Edward!" I cover my mouth with one hand, looking up at the inn with awe.

"It is. Why don't you take a walk around the grounds while I check us in?"

"Yeah?" I ask eagerly.

"Go ahead. I'll bring the bags in, and then I'll join you."

Since we got an early start after classes, there's still about an hour of daylight left. I hop out of the car and start walking around the huge house. In the back, I come upon a flagstone patio with Adirondack chairs facing a garden dotted by a colorful array of newly blooming flowers.

Through the trees at the far end of the garden, the sun is low in the sky, sending golden rays of light that gleam off the trunks, grass, and flowers. There's a table tucked in a perfect spot for watching the sunset, and I sink into a chair and watch as the sky is streaked with colors.

"Hey, beautiful. I found you." Edward's voice comes from behind, and I turn around.

"We're all set?"

"Checked in, and the bags are in the room. It's really beautiful inside."

"It's really beautiful out here. This place is like a fairytale."

Edward takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. "You're like a fairytale," he whispers, pulling me into his embrace.

We stand with our arms wrapped around each other and watch the sun go down before he leads me inside to our room. The lobby has oriental carpets and a fireplace with cushy chairs surrounding it. Since Edward already checked us in, we head upstairs.

The spacious suite has a sitting room with a fireplace and large bedroom, both decorated in elegant beige and burgundy with cherry wood furniture. The bedroom windows overlook the back garden, offering a breathtaking view of the rapidly darkening sky, which is still painted with an abundance of morphing colors.

We order dinner to be delivered to our room, and I stand quietly by the window, looking out into the darkness. I'm fairly sure this is _it_. Edward and I are finally going to make love. I'm thrilled and scared, full of anticipation and trepidation at the same time. I've wanted him for so long, but part of me is afraid to completely let go.

"Bella . . ." His voice is soft, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. "There's no pressure this weekend, you know. I'm not expecting anything from you."

"I know." I reach up to place a hand over one of his.

Pushing my hair aside, Edward kisses the back of my neck softly. His lips travel slowly over my prickling skin until they're beside my ear. "I'm not gonna lie . . . I'm hoping to make love to you, and this would be the perfect place. But it's all up to you, Bella."

Turning in his arms, I loop my hands around his neck. "I love you so much, Edward Cullen. I want you, and I can't imagine it happening in a more magical place. Thank you for bringing me here."

He leans in for a spine-tingling kiss. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

With my hands wrapped around Bella's waist and my nose buried in her hair, I feel more at home than I ever thought I could. It has nothing to do with the location; rather, it's _Bella _that brings this particular feeling out in me. Her words play through my mind again: _I love you . . . I want you . . . _I feel like we've been moving toward this for the past four years—maybe for our whole lives. And tonight, finally, that part of our relationship will reach fruition.

"I could never give up on you," she whispers into my chest. "You're my everything."

My heart soars. "Oh, Bella. You took the words right out of my mouth." I pull away from the top of her head and lean down to kiss her again. Her tongue sweeps over my bottom lip, and the sensation goes straight to my groin. I reluctantly pull away from the kiss; the reminder of what we're about to do is the only thing that could have made me break it. Leaning down, I sweep one arm behind her knees and the other behind her back, picking her up bridal-style.

"Edward! What are you doing?"

I smile; I've caught her off guard. I don't answer her verbally, instead placing another scorching kiss on her mouth, which is still open with surprise. She settles into my embrace quickly, eagerly returning the kiss. We don't break again while I walk us over to the bed, only when I lay her down on top of the red and gold comforter. The fire I started while she was gazing out the window is blazing behind us, providing a beautiful ambience to the room. Bella's eyes never leave mine as I slowly join her, climbing carefully onto the bed and then straddling her hips. She licks her lips slowly in anticipation, and I chuckle low in my throat. The second her tongue retreats into her mouth, my thumb is there, tracing the line she just made. She moans and lifts her hips, and the motion makes me twitch within my pants. "Ungh, Bella, do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"A little bit," she whispers, lifting her bottom again.

I know that no matter how long I want this to take, how much I want to make sure to pleasure her, I can't stand much more of the teasing, even if I'm the one initiating it. My hands trail from her face, where they rested after tracing her lips, down to her shoulders, over her collarbone, and settle on her breasts over her top. I knead carefully, paying attention to every single part: the soft flesh, the way they're sized perfectly for my hands, and finally the nipples. My thumbs rub over them, and she lets out a little squeak of pleasure before somehow managing to push farther into my hands. I smirk and remove my hands. She whimpers in disapproval at that particular move.

"Don't worry, beautiful. I'll put my hands on you again. And rest assured: this is much harder on me than it is on you."

She's panting so hard she doesn't respond; I almost wonder if she heard me at all, except that she seems oddly content with my actions now that they've been justified to an extent.

My fingers nimbly pop open the buttons on her blouse, and within seconds, it's lying underneath her on the bed, her chest completely exposed to me save for the purple lace bra hiding beneath. "_Fuck._" My voice is barely a rasp; it's all I can manage while feasting my eyes on my perfect girlfriend, who looks positively delectable between my body and the ruby red sheets of the bed. A possessive feeling overcomes me, a primal instinct to claim her as mine. As easily as I opened the buttons of her shirt, I'm even quicker with the bra fastening—it's a front-opener, and I silently praise the man who invented that particular number.

Bella swiftly frees her arms from the shirtsleeves and bra straps, and then all bets are off as far as my ability-slash-desire to continue the slow, arduous pace I've taken thus far. I held back to avoid spooking her, but I remind myself that we're here alone, and she's willing. I lower my mouth and suckle on a nipple, which is already aroused from being worked over by my hands. She sighs softly, writhing beneath me. Changing sides, I reach over and lightly pinch her nipple as my tongue flicks over its twin. She cries out, lifting her hips in a desperate search for some sort of relief. "Edward, please . . ."

Bella's frantic plea is my undoing, and I can't control myself any longer. I _have_ to be inside her, be one with her. I move aside, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them down her legs—panties and all. They snag on her shoes, and I curse, hastily yanking it all off in one big tangle and tossing it to the floor.

My breath hitches at the sight of her completely naked before me. I've only seen her this vulnerable once before, and it means so much more this time. "God, you're gorgeous," I murmur.

She doesn't respond, except to take a deep breath and dig her fingers into the bedding on either side of her as if she's struggling to hold herself still. It's not until her tongue darts out of her mouth to moisten her lips that I'm drawn back to the present: she's completely bare before me, and I'm still fully dressed. Making quick work of my own clothes, I toss them haphazardly with no care as to where they land as long as it's not the fireplace.

"Um . . . you're not so bad yourself." Bella's eyes are dark with desire.

I swiftly turn to the bedside table and open the drawer, pulling out a condom from the box I stashed there earlier. Looking back at Bella, I tear the foil packet open and start to roll it on, but she stops me with her hand. "May I?"

I swallow thickly and allow her to take over. She sits up, caresses me from base to tip—causing a shiver to race through me—and deftly rolls it into place. I've never been a huge fan of condoms, but Bella somehow makes its application feel amazing. She smiles coyly up at me, and I wonder for a split second where this confidence is coming from. But then I realize all that matters is us... here together.

Bella leans back on the bed, pausing for a few seconds on her elbows before lowering the rest of the way onto her back. I hover over her and lean down to kiss her tenderly. I want her to know it's not all about the sex, that I treasure her above everyone else on this earth. Gradually our kiss grows heated, and when her lips part slightly, I slip my tongue inside, stroking it against hers. Her hands slide up to grip my hair so tightly between her fingers that it's pleasurably painful.

While we explore each other's mouths, I reach one hand between our bodies and tease a finger against her clit. When she shifts her hips, I take the opportunity to push two fingers inside her. She's more than ready for me.

With my heart galloping like a racehorse, I pull away, lifting my fingers to my mouth. She watches with wide eyes as I lick them clean. "Holy hell, you taste amazing, Bella. Sometime I'd love to taste you straight from the source."

I lean back down, pressing my mouth to hers, knowing she'll taste herself on my lips. She responds by wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me back hungrily. Positioning myself between her thighs, I pull away from our kiss to whisper, "I need to be inside you, Bella. I've never wanted anything so much."

She whimpers incoherently, her lips finding mine again, and she spreads her legs around my hips in invitation.

I enter her slowly, and part of me has a hard time believing this is actually happening. Electric tingles flow beneath my skin, spreading through my entire being. We're a perfect fit, and my first thought once we're joined is how amazing it feels. To finally be together with the woman I've loved since I was seventeen years old is nothing short of sheer bliss. It's better than I ever imagined—and there have been a_ lot_ of fantasies. My second thought is not to lose it faster than a virgin.

Once I'm fully seated inside her, I close my eyes and take a moment to relish the feeling—and adjust to the sensation. This feels so very different than it did with Tanya, and I realize once again what a farce my life has been for the past four years.

"Are you okay?" she whispers.

I open my eyes and gaze down at my girlfriend lovingly. "Perfect."

My breath hitches as her hips rise to meet each slow thrust of mine. The heat between us grows, and we move together, almost as one. Her fingernails scrape up and down my back, coaxing me on. Without breaking eye contact, I reach down between us to stroke her clit, and she cries out to me.

I lean down and capture her mouth with mine, still gazing into her gorgeous brown eyes. Our tongues meet, and I continue my loving assault on her. Soon she's panting too hard to continue the kiss, and she turns her face away and squeezes her eyes shut tight. "Edward . . . God, so close . . ."

"Look at me, beautiful. I want to see your face when you come."

My words seem to be her undoing. Her eyes return to mine, and she moans so sweetly, biting her lip. Her eyelids flutter, head tilting back slightly, and her nails claw into my shoulders hard enough to draw blood. The mewling sound coming from her is my own undoing, and a powerful orgasm overtakes me.

"Bella . . ." My lips mash against hers as we ride it out together, and her body continues to milk me until I have nothing left to give.

I collapse on top of her, being careful to rest most of my weight on my forearms so I don't crush her. I kiss her forehead and murmur, "God, Bella, that was . . . mind blowing."

"Mm-hm. And so worth waiting for."

I lift my head and smile at her before slowly pulling out. She whimpers at the loss, and if I'm being completely honest, I'm disappointed to be out, too. "Don't worry, beautiful. Now that you're completely mine, I intend to wear you out."

"I hope so."

She brings my mouth down to hers and we kiss passionately before snuggling together underneath the comforter. We turn a movie on, but we both fall asleep before it's over; by morning, I don't even remember what it was.

**~SN~**

"So what should we do today?" Bella asks over breakfast.

I finish chewing my mouthful of blueberry muffin and swallow before answering. "I looked at the brochure before I booked this place, and there are lots of outdoor activities to do: biking, hiking, bird watching, canoeing, swimming."

"Swimming? It's too cold to swim, I think."

"It's April."

"And cold."

I laugh. "Okay, so no swimming. There's also a butterfly conservatory nearby."

"Ooh, really? I love butterflies."

"You do?"

She nods.

"Great. We'll go there, then." I grin at her.

As soon as we've finished the fruit and bread, a waiter brings us our main course—eggs Benedict for her, scrambled for me, and pancakes and bacon for both of us.

"I can't believe how much food they give you here," she says, leaning back in her chair after having eaten only half of what was on her plate.

I've just polished off my last bite, and I grin at her. I feel like I'm doing a lot of grinning, but I don't care; it's already been a really great weekend, and we've still got a day and a half left. "It's delicious, isn't it?"

"It is, but extravagant. I can't eat another bite. You want the rest of mine?"

I reach across and snag the bacon from her plate, pop it in my mouth, and say, "Just that. I've never been a fan of eggs Benedict."

Ten minutes later, we've made our way back to our room where she says, "This room is gorgeous, by the way. Thank you for bringing me. It must have cost you a fortune."

"Anything for you, beautiful." I kiss her tenderly. "But to be completely honest, they upgraded our room for free because there was a double booking or something. I don't remember the exact details, but long story short, this is nicer than the room I reserved."

"Even so, I still appreciate it. Thank you, Edward."

"My pleasure."

We quickly wash up from breakfast and brush our teeth, then go down to the car and drive the hour to Magic Wings Butterfly Conservatory. Because it's a Saturday in early spring, there are several cars in the parking lot, but it isn't packed. Bella climbs out as I hold her door open, and we walk hand-in-hand to the main entrance.

Upon paying our admission, we go into a greenhouse-like structure filled with foliage, sidewalks, and even a stream with a bridge across it. We take our time, stopping at every bush to look for the butterflies hiding in them. Bella's like a kid in a candy store; every time we see a butterfly in one of the shrubs, she gasps and points, and often says things like, "They're so beautiful!" Even I have to admit she's right. Sometimes the butterflies match the flowers on the bushes, sometimes they contrast, but every single one of them is stunning.

We've only made it about two-thirds of the way through the greenhouse by the time our stomachs start grumbling, despite the large breakfast. A quick glance at my cell phone tells me that it's nearly one o'clock. "Should we get some lunch here, then come back?"

Bella looks torn. She obviously wants to keep looking at the butterflies but is also starving. When her stomach gives another loud grumble, she laughs. "Yeah, we'd better."

The lunch menu is impressive, but we end up making basic choices: a chicken salad sandwich and soup for Bella and a mushroom bacon Swiss cheeseburger with fries for me.

The return to the conservatory after lunch is nice. For one, Bella was right; it's cold. Though the restaurant was heated, there was a short walk outside to get back to the greenhouse, and it was just long enough to chill us through our jackets. For another, seeing Bella's eyes light up like they did the first time we entered this place is magical. We take our time working through the final third of the conservatory and spot several more species and colors of butterflies. Over an hour later, we've come full circle and are back at the entrance.

"Let's go look in the gift shop," I suggest. "I'll get you a souvenir."

"You don't have to do that," she protests. "I can get it myself. You've already done so much by bringing me here."

"But I want to." I smile down at her.

She looks thoughtful for a moment. "Okay," she finally agrees.

The gift shop is a butterfly lover's dream. Every single item in the small store is butterfly themed from the erasers and children's furniture to the puzzles to the wood and glass creations that look like snow globes, just without water and glitter. "Oh, my goodness. That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she whispers, looking at one that contains three butterflies (a blue one, a yellow one, and a green one) that look like they could still be alive as they perch on a piece of wood surrounded by what seems to be lavender.

"Do you want it?"

She shakes her head. "It's much too expensive."

I roll my eyes and carefully pick it up, making my way to the cash register. As I suspected, she really does want it; this is evident by the fact that she doesn't argue as I pay.

Back in the car, she can barely take her eyes off the globe. "Thank you for buying this for me. I love it."

"You're welcome, beautiful." I reach across the center console and take her hand in mine, squeezing it gently.

When we get back to the inn, Bella places her new prize in a place of honor on top of the dresser before we go out to the Adirondack chairs out back. There aren't nearly as many butterflies and moths here as there were at Magic Wings, but there are a few, as well as loads of birds making their way back from the south now that spring is returning. We don't talk, just sit silently watching the stunning natural view around us. It's pleasant: being so comfortable with someone that talking is optional. Holding hands with Bella on the arm of her chair, I know that there's no place on Earth I'd rather be.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed. The other half of the lemon will be in the next chapter. And there's more Tanya excitement ahead—you'll finally get to find out what's on her DVD soon! We have no firm date when the next chapter will be posted, but in the vicinity of two weeks. Love you all for sticking with us!**

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**Follow us on Twitter: (at) wmr1601 and (at) SaritaDreaming / (at) SarahAisling **


	23. Chapter 21 Back to Reality

**A/N: Hello everyone! My apologies that this story was stalled out for so long. My lovely co-writer Wendy has decided to leave the fandom, and I will be continuing this journey alone. I hope I can do the Edward parts justice. Thanks for the very patient emails and PMs and for not stringing me up—you guys rock!**

**Thanks to Keye, Sandy, and Caz for prereading and being all around awesome.**

**Suckles from Edward to my awesome beta SassySue (chayasara) for always keeping me on track. Mwah!**

**As a quick recap, Edward and Bella are still on their weekend getaway . . . connecting. ;-)  
**

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**Chapter 21**

**~Back to Reality~**

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**~*Bella*~**

In the soft glow of the candlelight, Edward's hair has a fiery glow to it. My gaze roams over his bare back as he crouches down to toss another log on the fire.

I lean against the bathroom door and rub a towel lightly over my wet hair, pretty sure he's unaware of me.

After sharing a delicious dinner served in our room, I retreated to the bathroom to take a shower. Edward seemed disappointed when I declined his offer to join me. In truth, I needed the time alone. Tomorrow we return to Dartmouth. This lovely cocoon of bliss we've been existing in will come to an end, and the reality of classes, Jordin, and Tanya will return. Edward's idea to come here was wonderful, and I love him for it, but part of me worries about how I'll handle the reemergence into the drama that is our daily lives.

"If you think too hard, your brain might melt."

I yelp and press a hand to my chest, startled by the nearness of Edward's voice. I was so lost in my thoughts, he approached without my notice. Now he's two feet in front of me. _Who's the unobservant one, Bella? _

He's barefoot and bare chested, a pair of faded jeans hanging low on his hips. The button is undone, and my heart speeds as my gaze follows the soft down of the happy trail that disappears beneath the soft denim.

"My eyes are up here, Bella." Edward smirks at me, clearly preening over the fact he caught me ogling his body.

"Sorry." I shake my head, the heat of a blush rushing over me.

"Don't be." Edward's voice is husky as he trails his index finger down the side of my neck and over my breastbone, his eyes following its path. He hooks the edge of the towel wrapped around my body and tugs me in closer. "I love the way you look at me." The warmth of his breath, laced with traces of the wine we drank earlier, washes over me, causing goose bumps to erupt over my skin.

Cupping my face in his palm, he leans in and brushes his lips across mine, sending currents zipping under my skin. Every cell in my body strains toward his as if magnetized, leaving me breathless. At times I'm bewildered by how much I love and want him. I run my fingers up his sides, rubbing over the ridges of his strong ribcage. His kisses are slow and unhurried, his lips barely grazing mine.

Another tug sends my towel to the floor, and Edward slides his arm around my waist to draw me closer. I go willingly, allowing my hands to explore his muscular back. The roughness of his jeans against my nakedness sends delicious shivers dancing along my skin. He grabs the damp hair at the nape of my neck in one fist and tugs my head back, pressing his mouth firmly to mine. When he deepens the kiss, I taste the sweet sharpness of wine on his tongue.

He cups my ass with one palm and turns us, walking me back toward the bed. Our kisses grow frantic and rough, noses bumping and lips mashing against teeth. When I feel the fabric of the comforter brush the backs of my legs, he lowers me down to the bed and crawls over me, bringing his lips back down to mine.

I trail my fingers over his chest and the ripple of his abs into the downy hair I admired a few minutes ago. Edward groans when my fingers graze the swollen head of his cock, which is pressed up against his abdomen, restrained only by the edge of his jeans. I work to free him, but he grasps my wrist to stop me. "Not yet." He pushes back onto his knees, spreading my legs around them, and leans down to kiss my neck, sucking at my skin. The suction of his lips, tongue, and teeth sends jolts of pleasure through me to the point I don't care if he leaves marks all over. I moan softly, gripping his hair in my fists when I feel the coolness of his dog tags tickle my stomach.

Edward kisses his way over my sensitive breasts and grasps my hips firmly in both hands. "I love you," he murmurs as his lips hover over my navel. And then he kisses me much lower, so close to where I ache for him to fill me.

"Edward . . ." My fingers scrabble at his shoulders, sliding off once before my seeking nails find purchase. Panic floods through me. "Don't."

He stops and looks up at me from between my legs, but his hands remain firmly on my hips. "What is it?"

What do I say now? Do I tell him I'm afraid to let him go down on me? That to me it's more intimate and requires more trust than sex?

"I want you to make love to me."

"And I will. Be patient." He slides one finger along my folds, spreading the wetness around. "So beautiful." He lowers his head, warm breath whispering against my most intimate place.

"I'm afraid." Now that they're out, I can't take the words back.

"Of me?"

"No, of . . . letting you."

"Why?"

"Nobody ever has . . . before. To me, that's more intimate than sex. I never could bring myself to . . . let Mike." I feel the blush blooming beneath my skin and look away.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"This is something I really want to experience with you, Bella. If you feel uncomfortable, just tell me and I'll stop. Promise." His eyes are earnest but also smolder with unbridled desire. He grasps one of my hands, entwining our fingers. "Just say the word." With his other hand, he uses his fingers to open me to him, placing a soft kiss there. More kisses whisper over my inner thighs until his hot, ragged breath is once again hovering over the ache between my legs.

I hold my breath. Edward places several gentle kisses over my sensitive skin before snaking his tongue out to taste me. There's no way to describe how good his tongue feels, and my fear is washed away on a wave of desire. He tightens his fingers down on mine as he continues to love me with his mouth. I fist the sheets with my other hand as my back arches instinctively.

The most powerful orgasm I've ever experienced shatters through me, and I cry out to him with abandon. I don't know or care what I'm saying, just that he knows he's the one who brought me to this. Hot tears spill from my eyes as I let go of the last vestiges of reservation.

I'm completely his now.

Afterward, Edward's body covers me, his green eyes staring into mine intently as he cups my face in his hands. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes. There are no words." I caress his face.

Desire flares in his eyes, and he mashes his lips against mine. In the back of my mind, I know he's fumbling in the side table drawer for a condom, but the thought flits away as fast as it comes up when his tongue slides against mine and I taste myself. Another sizzling jolt of yearning flares inside me, and I thread my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and hold on for dear life.

Between kisses, Edward manages to roll the condom on. He presses his face between my neck and shoulder, his breath hot and panting. "Jesus, Bella. I want you so much. Are you ready?"

I can't speak but tug at his hair until he raises his head to look into my eyes which hold his answer, and his lips come down on mine again. His denim-covered knees press my legs apart, and then he's inside me—rocking his pelvis against mine. The thought that he left his jeans on because he couldn't wait to be inside me is a huge turn on.

Edward slams into me over and over; the added stimulation from the edges of his jeans rubbing against my thighs brings me to the brink again. I let go of his hair and claw at his back hard enough to draw blood. He pulls away from the kiss for a moment and hisses between his teeth before sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. I come hard, embedding my nails into his shoulders and involuntarily arching against him. Edward throws his head back, his dog tags sliding along my chest as he lets loose a string of curses. The tendons stand out across his arms and chest, and his hips pump into me one final time before he collapses against me.

"Fuck, Bella. That was fantastic."

"You didn't even take your pants off," I tease.

Edward growls, turning us to the side and nipping at my neck. "I couldn't wait another second to be inside you." Then he lifts his head to look into my eyes. "You're not upset about that are you?"

I shake my head. "It made it all that much hotter—to know you wanted me that much."

"I'll always want you this way, Bella. You're my forever."

**~*SN*~**

Sunday morning we share breakfast in the restaurant at a table overlooking the garden. I feel fine until it's time to say goodbye to the inn. A sick feeling blooms in the pit of my stomach, and I wish we could stay here—or go anywhere at all—so we don't have to face real life.

When Edward takes my hand and places a kiss on the back, I feel a little better.

"We'll be okay, you know." He turns his head to smile at me as we turn out of the driveway, leaving the Clamber Hill Inn in the rear view.

"I know."

"Move in with me, Bella."

"What?"

"I don't want to sleep without you by my side anymore. There's no Tanya to run into there, and if you live with me, you won't have Jordin to deal with." Edward squeezes my hand but keeps his eyes on the road.

"Let me think it over. For the next few days at least, I can pick up some things from Delaney Hall."

When we get to the dorm, Becca isn't home. There's a padded envelope in the middle of my bed with no return address. I shove it in my purse, intending to open it later. I gather some things, leave Becca a note, and then we head over to Edward's new place. I can definitely see myself living here and sleeping in his arms every night.

**~*SN*~**

**~*Edward*~**

When we arrive at my apartment, I lead Bella into the bedroom, carting the few bags of belongings she packed. I've saved half the dresser and closet space in anticipation of her moving in. Thus far it's been wishful thinking, but after this weekend, I think it's only a matter of time before she falls asleep in my arms every night. I want to share everything with her, and after all that's happened to us, I can admit to myself that I hate it when she's out of my sight.

Bella smiles shyly, finally agreeing to store her things in the dresser. She's low maintenance and doesn't have many toiletries to put in the medicine cabinet. That's a refreshing change from Tanya, who had every beauty product known to mankind and only allowed me one small drawer in the dresser in addition to a solitary shelf and two feet of pole space in the closet.

I put my arms around Bella and nuzzle her neck. "What do you feel like for dinner? Would you like to go out?"

"I'd rather eat here. How about the Mexican place we tried a few weeks ago?"

"They don't deliver, but I can go pick it up."

"Yeah?" Bella goes up on tiptoe, sliding her arms around my neck. She looks up at me with those big brown eyes, and I realize there isn't much I wouldn't do to keep her happy.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm on my way to La Cantina with a list of what to get. Just as I pull into the parking lot, my cell rings.

"Hello?"

"Edward Cullen, please," a brusque female voice replies.

"This is Edward Cullen."

"Sir, I'm calling from Darmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center. You're listed as the emergency contact for Tanya Denali."

"What's happened?"

"Can you come down here, Mr. Cullen? Ms. Denali was attacked at her apartment. There isn't much else I can tell you over the phone."

I start to wonder if this is one of Tanya's ploys. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, I assure you it isn't, sir. I'll give you our number if you'd like to call back to confirm."

In the background, a paging system squawks and the typical sounds of the hustle and bustle of a hospital go on. Why would Tanya want to get me to a hospital anyway?

"That won't be necessary. Tell me where to go."

On the way there, I try my new number and find out it hasn't been connected yet. Then I call Bella's cell and get her voicemail. If her phone is in her purse, she rarely hears it. I leave her a message to let her know where I'll be.

An hour and a half later, after being shuffled around, asked to show ID, told to wait, and asked for my ID again, a plump nurse with short dark hair leads me to an elevator and pushes the button for the second floor. When we step off into the hallway, everything is hushed—the only sounds are the beeps of heart monitors and the press of air from ventilators.

"I need you to turn off your cell phone, please."

"Why?"

"We don't allow disturbances in the ICU, Mr. Cullen."

"ICU? What the hell happened to her?"

"This way." Her dark eyes show a moment of sympathy before her emotions are shuttered away behind her professional persona.

I shuffle along behind the nurse and pull my cell out to turn the ringer off as instructed. We make a few turns and reach the end of a short hall. A policeman stands watch by the door, and the nurse stops and gestures at me.

"This is Edward Cullen. He's Ms. Denali's emergency contact. They already checked his credentials downstairs."

The officer nods. "Go ahead."

The nurse holds the door open for me, and I enter the room to the beep of a heart monitor. Thank God there's no ventilator. I shuffle in slowly, unsure what I'm expected to do now.

"Ms. Denali has been sedated. She should be waking up soon, and the doctor will be making rounds in an hour or so."

"Okay."

"Let us know if you need anything, Mr. Cullen." The nurse pats me on the arm and leaves the room.

_Yes, I need something!_ I want to yell. _I need someone to tell me what the fuck is going on here._

I realize I can't cower by the door forever, so I make my way across the large room to Tanya's bedside. The room was obviously set up for two patients, but there's only one bed. I hover at its foot, an involuntary gasp escaping when my gaze lands on Tanya's face. She's dwarfed by the hospital bed, white sheets and knit blankets tucked up under her chin. Her head is sunk pretty deep into the pile of pillows that prop it up, but her face is quite clear.

A rainbow of bruising mottles the skin of Tanya's face. Both of her eyes are swollen shut, her nose is crooked, and her lip is split and puffy. Her blonde hair is matted with blood on one side. She looks so helpless and childlike buried beneath all those layers of white bedding. It hurts to look at her face, but she seems to be at peace for the moment.

I don't know what else to do, so I pull up a chair and wait.

Nobody comes into the room for the next hour. No police, no doctors or nurses. I'm tempted to try Bella again, but I have to leave this floor to do that. I don't want to chance missing the doctor.

A soft moan from Tanya draws my attention. The beeps of the heart monitor increase and then increase again. A nurse bustles into the room—completely ignores my presence—and checks the chart and machines before pulling a syringe out of her pocket and injecting it into the IV tube.

"There now, sweetie. That will make you feel better."

"What did you give her?" I ask.

"Morphine." The nurse smiles sadly on her way out.

"Edward?" Tanya's voice is no more than a raspy whisper. Her head turns slightly, but her eyes are swollen shut to the point I doubt she can see much more than shadows.

"I'm here. The hospital called me." I stand next to the bed awkwardly.

"You . . . came." Her words slur around her swollen lips.

"What happened?"

An awful, hoarse braying sound comes from Tanya. "He . . . hurt me. You weren't there. Why . . . weren't you there?"

"Why wasn't I where?"

She grips my hand, the hold almost painful. "Apartment . . . in the middle . . . of night. He broke in—nobody else on our floor. You . . . I slipped away from him and banged on your door . . . begged you to help me."

The alarm on the heart monitor goes off, and the same nurse rushes back into the room. "Ms. Denali . . . I need you to calm down. The Morphine should help you relax soon."

"No! No!" Tanya starts to struggle, pulling at the IV. When she attempts to lift her body, she shrieks with pain, and the nurse presses her down by the shoulders.

"You're going to hurt yourself. Relax. Don't try to fight the medication."

Tanya finally drifts off into an uneasy sleep. She murmurs my name over and over until I take her hand. Her fingers grip mine with a strength I didn't think she had right now. When I pull my hand away, she grows agitated, so I find myself trapped at her side for the time being.

The door swings open and a man wearing green scrubs and a white lab coat breezes in. His tag reads "Dr. Norman Banks." To me he looks more like a nurse, but I guess the days of wearing a suit beneath the lab coat are over in many places.

"Hi there. Mr. Cullen?" He opens the chart and peruses it before looking over at me. "I'm Dr. Banks. I understand you have some questions for me."

"Well, we can start with . . . what the hell happened to her?"

"Ms. Denali was badly beaten. Other than the obvious contusions on her face, she came in with some internal bleeding and has several broken ribs."

"Jesus! Was she . . ." I falter.

"Raped? No. He tried, but she fought him with everything she had."

I swallow hard. "Will she be okay?"

"That's a rather broad question, Mr. Cullen. Ms. Denali is expected to make a full _physical _recovery—psychologically, I can't say. With therapy, maybe."

"And the internal bleeding?"

"It was caused by one of the broken ribs, but we have all that under control. Now it's a matter of time and healing." He closes the chart and reaches out to shake my hand. "I'm glad she has someone here for support. She's going to need it over the coming weeks. Best of luck to you both."

He assumes I'm Tanya's significant other, and I don't bother to correct him. I'm too exhausted to explain myself to complete strangers. Tanya's death grip on my fingers never lets up even while she's heavily sedated. My fingers go numb, but it's a small price to pay when she's in such bad shape. I pull the chair as close to the bed as possible and slump down in it, allowing her the comfort of my touch. Eventually I fall asleep.

When I open my eyes, bright light is spilling through the bank of windows beside the bed. My joints are stiff, and most of my left arm is numb. I rake a hand through my hair and stretch my arms. Tanya is sleeping peacefully, most likely under the influence of Morphine, and this time she doesn't protest when I untangle my fingers from hers.

I glance at my watch and realize it's eight in the morning. _ Bella!_ I spring from the chair and lurch awkwardly from the room on stiff legs, making my way to a waiting room one floor down where I can use my cell phone. When I turn my phone on, I have several notifications—nine from Bella, three from Emmett, and two from my parents.

**~*SN*~**

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**A/N: Yup, the shit is about to hit the fan. Did you catch the padded envelope left for Bella? Big trouble. Tanya? Big trouble. Edward falling asleep at Tanya's bedside? Even bigger trouble. There are only a handful of chapters left! Care to toss out any theories? You know how I love to read theories!**

**Next story to update will be _I Want It Painted Black. _(Yes, really)**

**Follow me on Twitter: SaritaDreaming or SarahAisling**

**My website is finally up: www . SarahAisling . com**

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**Fanfic Blog: SaritaDreaming . wordpress .com**

**An Archive of Our Own: archiveofourown .org users / SaritaDreaming**


	24. Chapter 22 DVDisaster

**A/N: Thanks from the bottom of my heart to all of you who came back to read this after such a long hiatus! I forgot how passionate (and vocal!) many of you are about this story, but I love reading each and every comment—positive or negative. Remember . . . if characters always did the smart thing, there'd be no story to tell. I know this chapter (and probably the next, which is already written) is going to incite some reactions. Go easy on me. *Dons armor* Get the popcorn!**

**A shot at Tanya's face to my prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Caz. These gals are the best!**

**Huge thanks to my lovely beta, SassySue (chayasara), for her superfast, awesome work. I'm so spoiled. Really.**

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**Chapter 22**

**~DVDisaster~**

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**~*Bella*~**

I open my eyes to darkness. A sliver of light from a street lamp shines through the living room window, and the green glow of the clock on the VCR indicates it's midnight. I stretch my arms, throwing off the blanket cocooned around me and stand up, rubbing at my eyes.

"Edward?"

It's not like him to leave me on the couch when I fall asleep. He usually carries me to bed and tucks me in. My stomach growls, and I realize I completely missed dinner. Edward went out to pick up Mexican food. Padding into the kitchen, I open the fridge to forage for leftovers. The interior is conspicuously empty. Milk, water, a bottle of wine . . . no Styrofoam containers.

"Edward?"

My heart starts pounding, and I rush into the bedroom and flick on the light, unconcerned with waking him at this point. The bed is still made. Within a few minutes I turn on every light in the apartment and search every corner. By the time I think to run out to the parking lot, my hair is damp with sweat and flying wild around my face. His parking spot is empty.

When I pick up the phone, dead silence greets me. _Shit. _ Frantically I paw through my purse looking for my cell. I call Edward's phone, but it goes straight to voicemail. I call over and over with the same result. My body shakes when I consider what might have kept Edward from coming home. In a panic, I call Emmett. His sleepy voice gives way to a wide awake, "What the fuck?" when I tell him Edward left to pick up dinner hours ago and never made it home.

Emmett agrees to call around to the police station and area hospitals. I'm not sure I could handle hearing any bad news about Edward from strangers. I start praying and shaking and crying.

An hour later, Emmett calls back with a "no news is good news" report. The police and hospitals in the area have no report of an accident involving Edward or his car.

"Maybe he got a flat tire or his car broke down, Bella."

"Why didn't he call?" I yell in frustration. Then I realize Edward's apartment phone isn't working, and with my cell buried in my purse, I might not have heard it ring. "Emmett, I have to go! Maybe he left a message on my cell or at my dorm."

"'Kay. Call me back, though!"

Sure enough, I have a notification on my phone from Edward's cell. Hope washes through me, and I tap the message icon with a trembling finger.

"_Bella, it's Edward. I got a call from Hitchcock-Dartmouth Medical Center because Tanya was attacked at her apartment. She still has me listed as her emergency contact—I don't know why—but I'm just going to go see what the hell happened. They wouldn't give me any details over the phone. Be home as soon as I can. Love you, beautiful."_

"Fucking Tanya!" I throw the phone across the room and it lands with an unsatisfying thump on the carpet. I grit my teeth, intending to do my not-so-smart phone some bodily harm, but I trip over my purse on the way. My feet tangle in the straps and I land hard on the carpet, receiving a rug burn on my chin and elbows. "Fuck!"

I twist my body and piston my legs until the offending purse is dislodged. Of course my purse is unzipped from when I was digging around for my cell, so half the contents spills out onto the floor—including the padded envelope that was on my bed when I stopped at the dorm. My curiosity derails my plans to mangle my phone, and I tear the package open. A clear jewel case with a DVD slides out. There's no note, no return address, and I don't recognize the handwriting on the envelope.

I crawl over to the TV and pop the DVD in.

When the video starts, I immediately recognize the bedroom from the apartment where Edward and Tanya lived together. Voices rise and fall in the distance, but the room is empty.

I haven't long to wait.

Less than a minute later, Edward and Tanya come through the bedroom door wrapped in each other's arms. Their kissing is passionate—almost violent—and he's tearing at her clothes while she's unbuckling his belt and tugging his zipper down.

Tanya falls to her knees, taking Edward's pants down with her. He's not wearing any underwear, and his cock springs free. She wastes no time grabbing it with her hands and guiding him into her mouth. His button-down shirt is wide open, showing off his sculpted chest and abs. Edward makes a growling sound and tangles his fingers in Tanya's hair, thrusting into her mouth. His head is tipped back, eyes closed. She rakes her nails over his stomach, and he tightens his hold with a "Yesss . . ."

She trails her dragon red talons around his hip and digs her fingers into the cheek of his ass, and Edward groans.

"T, stop . . . I want to fuck you." Edward's voice is gravelly, and he hauls her up by her shoulders. He finishes pulling her blouse off and slides her skirt down over her hips. Tanya wears black lacy garters, stockings, and crotchless panties underneath. "So hot."

Edward faces Tanya away from him and urges her toward the bed. "Hands and knees."

She scrambles onto the bed eagerly, licking her lips in anticipation. Edward stands at the foot of the bed and grabs her hips, pulling her back until he's satisfied with her position. His heavily lidded eyes roam over her body, lingering between her spread legs, and he rubs his hands over her lace-covered ass. "You're so wet, T. Do you want me?"

"Yes . . . want you, Edward." His name is a breathless whimper on her lips, and she turns her head to look back at him.

Edward looks down on her fiercely, his green eyes full of fire. He places one knee on the bed and leans over her, curling an arm around her head to hold it still, and kisses her hard. Releasing her head and supporting himself by one palm, his lips trail down her neck and over her left shoulder. Tanya yelps when his teeth sink into her flesh, but the shriek turns into a wanton cry of pleasure.

He positions himself behind her and strokes himself a few times before grabbing her hips firmly and plunging into her.

"Uh . . ." Tanya's mouth opens as her eyelids flutter shut.

Edward rams into her hard and fast, head tipped back, eyes scrunched closed. Her moans and his grunts fill the room. He slows the punishing pace and leans down to unhook her bra. Tanya slides one arm out, allowing the strap to dangle around the wrist of the other, her ample breasts swinging free. He pushes all the way inside her and stills, reaching around her body to grasp her nipples between his fingers. The way he twists them looks painful, but Tanya cries out and pushes back against him seeking more friction.

"Please, Edward . . ."

"Please what?"

"Fuck me harder. Make me yours."

He pulls out and pushes in again. "Who do you belong to, T?"

"Oh, God . . . you! You fucking own me, Edward Cullen!"

With an almost feral growl, Edward rears back, grabs her hips again, and ruts into her like an animal. It doesn't take long before Tanya comes, and Edward is right behind her. "Yes . . . yes . . . fuck yeah!" With a final thrust, he collapses on Tanya's back, and the two of them tumble to the bed as her limbs give out.

The screen goes black for a few seconds before focusing on another room with a leather couch. A perfectly coiffed Tanya steps in view and sits down, looking straight at the camera. I've never seen the room before, so I surmise this portion was filmed in her new apartment.

"What you've just seen, Bella—and I'm pretty sure you were riveted to the entire scene—is the reason why Edward will always belong to me. I'm willing to bet he's never let go that way with you. Edward likes it rough and enjoys a woman that can handle what he dishes out . . . fuels it. He may even believe he wants you right now, but what happens when his . . . appetite for more drives a wedge between you? Face it, Bella—you're a good girl. You'll never be Edward's dirty little whore in the bedroom. You'll never be his equal in any of the ways that matter.

"That tasty clip is only from six months ago, just in case you were wondering. Do us all a favor and let him go before you destroy him. Edward and I are good together. We feed needs in each other. He's never going to find happiness with you. Do the right thing, Bella. Set Edward free."

The screen goes black a final time.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

I fall into a padded chair in the waiting room, thankful nobody else is around, and check my voicemails. Despite the number of missed call notifications, I only have three messages. The first one is Bella.

"_Edward, where are you? It's one-thirty in the morning. I'm . . . really getting worried. Please call me. I—I love you."_

She sounds frightened and for good reason. I'm such a fuck-up. The next message is also from Bella, three hours later. The tone of her voice causes icy fingers to close around my heart.

"_It's Bella. Don't worry about calling me—I figured it all out on my own. I can't believe what an asshole I was to fall for it . . . the 'we belong together' bullshit. Goodbye, Edward."_

The way she said goodbye sounds so final. Surely she can't be that upset because I checked on Tanya. Falling asleep and staying out all night isn't among my best moments, but I'm confident once I explain myself everything will be fine. At least that's what I believe until I hear Emmett's message.

"_Yo, bro! What the fuck are you doing, man? I'm on my way . . . on the plane. Try not to fuck up anything else until I get there, huh? Bella's beyond pissed at you. Said she has nothing else to say to you, like . . . ever, but I bet we can bring her around. Oh, and I called Tanya's family—you know, the people who are actually _responsible_ for her skanky ass. You, my friend, are as fucking gullible as the day is long. Rosie said she owes you a smack on the back of the head. I'll meet you at your place."_

Fuck me.

I race back to the second floor to grab my jacket. Tanya is still sleeping. It's hard to believe when I see her vulnerable like this that she plotted against me in high school and lied to me for four years. Then again, I suspect a tiger looks peaceful while it's sleeping, too, but that doesn't mean your head won't end up in its mouth when it awakens.

The door to the room opens and Kate sails through with Livy in tow.

"Edward!" Kate's eyes widen with surprise. Her blonde hair is piled carelessly on her head, and she's wearing a warm-up suit.

Livy's eyes widen when they come to rest on me. "No, no. No good."

"Livy, stop!" Kate admonishes.

"No good! No good!"

I hold my hands up in front of me and back away from the bed. "I don't want to upset you, Livy. I don't know why you don't like me, but—"

Livy moans and shakes her head violently. "Oh, _no_! Oh, _no_!" She grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks at it. "Understand, Livy."

"I'll just go." I move toward the door.

Livy becomes more agitated. "Ed . . . ward _okay_. Edward with Aunt Titi . . . no good! You two, _no good_!"

I stare wordlessly at Livy. Finally I understand what she was trying to say all these years; she knows Tanya and I are toxic together.

I can't get out of the hospital fast enough. As I speed toward my apartment, I redial Bella's number over and over, but it keeps going straight to voicemail. It feels like the longest ride ever. There is no sense of relief when I careen into the parking lot and throw my car into park. A sense of foreboding descends over me, and I start praying that by some miracle Bella is still here and willing to listen to me. I'll beg on my knees, grovel—anything.

When I enter the apartment, it has an aura of emptiness. "Bella?" I still search the place though I know it's fruitless. Bella is gone.

I do find a note on the breakfast bar.

_This isn't just about your all-consuming stupidity and complete lack of regard for me last night. If you want to know why I never want to see you again, just press play on your DVD player. We're over. Stay away from me, Edward._

"What the fuck?" My fingers curl instinctively, balling the note in my fist. "No. This can't be happening."

A loud knock sounds on the door. "Yo, Eddie!"

"It's open."

Emmett bounds into the room, a blue duffel bag tossed casually over his shoulder. He throws his bag in a corner and grabs me in bear hug. "Eddie, what the fuck?"

"What are you doing here?"

"You need me, so I'm here. Bella said she's done with you, man—that it was more than you being _stupid_ enough to rush to Tanya's bedside."

"She left me this note." I open my fist, offering up the mangled piece of paper.

Emmett smooths out the crumpled note and reads it, whistling between his teeth. "Shit, man. This is cold. Well, let's get a look at that DVD, shall we?"

We sit on the couch and turn the TV on. A view of the bedroom in my old apartment comes on screen, and my mouth falls open. The only way this is possible is if there was a camera on the shelf behind the bed. Before I have time to think this over, Tanya and I tumble through the bedroom door mauling each other. When Tanya falls to her knees, dragging my pants with her, I grab for the remote.

"Shit, Edward!" Emmett snatches the remote out of my hand. "We need to watch this. It's research . . . so I can help you get Bella back."

"Research! You don't need to watch me get a blow job, Emmett!"

We wrestle for the remote, but I'm no match for my brother's brawn, and he easily holds it out of reach.

When Tanya kneels on the bed in the garters, stockings, and crotchless panties, we stop fighting—but for different reasons. Emmett is slack jawed, watching the scene play out. My own jaw drops because I'm seeing this for the very first time. It's obviously me in the video, but I don't remember this night. I'm horrified by the way I command Tanya, bite and manhandle her.

"That's not me!" I sputter like a fool.

"Dude, are you fucking kidding me?"

"Fuck. I mean, I have no memory of that. It's me . . . but it's not. Get what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, man. Drunk? Drugged maybe?"

Our suppositions are cut short when the screen blacks out and reanimates. Tanya's speech to Bella elicits a creative string of curses from me. I can't remember ever being this angry. Hurt or not, I have the urge to throttle Tanya. I imagine Bella sitting here watching this video and hurl the remote at the TV. Cracks spider outward from the point of impact. The crunch of my flat screen doesn't make me feel better.

"Take it easy! You just fucked up your flat screen. Save your energy for getting Bella back—you've got your work cut out for you."

"That fucking bitch. She'll stoop to any level to get what she wants. Any level!" I turn to Emmett and grab his hoodie in my fists, pulling him toward me. "Help me, Em. What the fuck should I do? I have to get Bella back!"

"Before you go off half-cocked, you need to give some thought to what was on that DVD and what Tanya said after. Is there any truth to it?"

"No! I don't even_ remember _that night. I can't lie—sex with Tanya was uninhibited. Things reached a point where the sex was always rough, but I don't want anything like that with Bella."

"Question is . . . why not, bro?"

"I did what was necessary . . . to get through. My feelings for Tanya were never tender." I drop my head in my hands and close my eyes.

"Looks like Tanya was hot in the sack, man. You sure Bella's what you want? I mean, maybe Tanya . . . satisfies a need in you."

I glare at Emmett. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours." His expression is earnest. "You've got two women in love with you—two_ very_ different women."

"Jesus Christ, Em! I—I was rough with Tanya because it was the only way I could get it up! She seemed to like it, and that worked for me. Maybe it makes me a monster, but she was my willing whore in the bedroom. Most of the time, alcohol was involved . . . or these little pills she had. It was the only way to push Bella's face out of my thoughts." I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. How did I lie to myself all this time? How did I not see the destructive path I was on?

"Shit, man. So, um, you aren't into kinky stuff?" He grins at me.

"It has it's place, but when used as a crutch . . ." I gesture at the screen ". . . obviously a disaster. I allowed the alcohol and occasional pill popping to cloud my judgment. I didn't want to see the truth because it was too devastating. And now . . . now Bella thinks I'm some kind of depraved asshole."

"Well, she's got the asshole part right." He smacks me on the back. "Let's fix this."

"How?"

"Do you still booze and pop pills?"

"No! I don't need to do that with Bella. I can't keep my hands off her."

"One less hurdle to leap. You need to tell Bella what you just told me."

"You think she'll listen?"

"Fuck no! That's where you have to use the Cullen charm, bro. Woo her, charm her, get her to listen. Work for it, dude."

I nod. "Okay. She might not want to hear me at first, but Bella is a reasonable woman."

"Oh, and stay away from Tanya. Bella might be reasonable, but a gal's gotta draw the line somewhere, ya know? You spending the night by that tart's bedside was a bad fucking move."

"It wasn't a move! I fell asleep."

"Bad move, man. You should've called Kate right off and stayed the hell away."

I leave Emmett in my apartment lamenting over the cracked flat screen. I missed my morning classes and decide to take the day off. There's no way I could concentrate on classes today. If I'm right, Bella is holed up in her dorm room.

The ride doesn't take long at the speed I'm driving. When I reach Delaney Hall, I stride in as if I own the place. The foyer is deserted, and I make a beeline for the stairs.

"Excuse me." A woman pops her head out of an office door. "Can I help you?"

"I'm just here to pick up my girlfriend."

"Might that be Bella Swan?"

"Yes." I swallow hard.

The woman's eyes are cold and hard. "Are you Edward Cullen?"

"Yes."

"You're a student here at Dartmouth, correct?"

"I am."

She leaves her office and goes around behind the desk where the resident mailboxes are. "Mr. Cullen, I have to ask you to leave immediately. Ms. Swan has indicated she doesn't want you in the building." She holds a hand up when I open my mouth to protest. "I'd rather not have to call campus security."

"There was a misunderstanding. If I could just speak to her . . ."

"Out."

"But—"

"Don't buy yourself more trouble, Mr. Cullen. We have a strict harassment policy on campus. It really would be best if you leave on your own."

Plan B it is.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: Go on then . . . I know some of you can't wait to clobber me. Again, if all characters were perfect, there would be no story. Love some of the wild theories coming in. One of you was very close to the truth—well, part of the truth. The next chapter is about finished, and I expect a few more to wrap things up.**

**For _I Want it Painted Black _readers, the chapter is more than half done. It's been a difficult one, but I promise it's coming within the next week.**

**Thanks to everyone who reads, recs, and lurks this story!**

**Follow me on Twitter: SaritaDreaming or SarahAisling**

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**An Archive of Our Own: archiveofourown .org users / SaritaDreaming**


	25. Chapter 23 Rupture

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for your support and (mostly) kind words! I know many of you aren't happy about the turn of events, but I appreciate your patience while you wait to see how this all plays out.**

**Huge hugs to my awesome friends and prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Caz, for their invaluable feedback and hilarity.**

**A chance to comfort Edward to my awesome beta, SassySue (chayasara), who spoils me to no end. Mwah!**

* * *

**Chapter 23**

**~Rupture~**

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**~*Bella*~**

I know Edward is here. The roar of an engine racing into the lot of Delaney Hall is a dead giveaway, but I torture myself by peeking out the window anyway.

Edward lunges out of his car, raking a hand through his tousled hair. He's still wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday. With a determined stride, he heads into the building. I'm not worried, though; Cilla will stop him.

Just in case he manages to give her the slip, I double check the lock on the door then huddle by the window until I see him exit the building. He slams a fist in the middle of the Audi's hood, leaving a fair sized dent.

I slide down the wall, curl into a ball, and cry my eyes out.

When Becca comes home, it's dark out, and I'm still curled up in the corner of my room. I have no idea how many hours I've been this way, but my phone has vibrated against my hip no less than thirty times.

The living room lamp clicks on, the resultant light under the door like daggers stabbing my retinas. "Bella?"

"In here," I croak. My voice is a hoarse whisper, and Becca probably didn't hear, so I try again. "Becca."

As the bedroom door opens, a slice of warm light expands over the floor. I'm glad it doesn't reveal me. Darkness consumes every cell of my being right now.

"Oh, Bella," Becca sighs. Somehow she intuits I don't want the light. She shuts the door and crawls over to sit beside me in the dark, offering her hand, which I gratefully accept. "Cilla told me he was here earlier. I'm so sorry, honey."

"Thanks."

"Do you want to talk about it? I mean . . . I've seen him with you. He loves you."

"Don't, okay? It's over."

"Think about high school, though. Are you sure there isn't an explanation?"

"I saw what I needed to see with my own two eyes, Bec. Please . . . I just can't."

**~SN~**

The next few days go by slowly. My time is only marked by day and night. I do nothing but alternate between crying and raging.

Edward keeps leaving messages on my phone, and I delete them without listening. I saw the way he treated Tanya that night, and she obviously enjoyed it. As much as I hate to admit it, maybe she was right—maybe they are a better match.

Cilla informs all my professors that I have the flu. She purses her lips and says I have to "get over my flu bug sooner than later" because she can't justify an extended illness.

When I can no longer stand my own stench, I take a shower. I really let go and cry under the pelting spray, going all out in a way I try to suppress around Becca.

I miss Edward. There's no denying how much I want this to go away, how much I want to erase every moment I spent in front of his TV watching that sex tape. The truth keeps coming back around, though. Edward likes it rough. He held himself back with me. When he got the phone call, he rushed to Tanya's side. No matter how much I love him, this is something I don't see us working through.

"Bella, I'm making spaghetti for dinner!" Becca calls from the kitchen.

"Not hungry." I lay on my bed staring up at the ceiling.

My bedroom door opens, and Becca's shadow is eclipsed by the light from the living room. "Oh, you're totally having dinner with me, Swan. This pathetic mooning is over. Get off your ass and set the table." She retreats to the kitchen, leaving my door wide open.

I grumble and curse, loosing a stream of very unladylike phrases. A few of them cause the corners of my lips to twitch, and I finally get out of bed and hobble stiff-legged into the bathroom. I wash my face, brush my teeth and hair—I even put on jeans and a T-shirt.

When I shuffle out, Becca smirks but has the courtesy to turn her face away. I grab dishes, silverware, napkins, and cups and start setting the table. We work together in silence for a while, and I'm grateful to her for not making this more difficult for me.

"Thanks, Bec."

"For what?" she asks with her back to me. She pours the pasta into a colander and steam billows up around her head.

"I know I've been impossible the past few days. Thanks for just being here for me . . . and letting me wallow."

"Sure thing. Gotta say, though . . . I'm glad you finally took a shower." Becca waves a hand in front of her nose.

We look at each other for a moment and then start laughing.

Dinner goes well, considering. Spaghetti is one of my all-time favorite foods, but I only manage half a plate, and it sits heavy in my stomach. Becca wolfs down two helpings, content to eat in silence while she snarfs her food like a machine. She pauses only to exchange a few texts with her boyfriend.

"Where's Jim tonight? He could've joined us for dinner." I feel guilty that Becca is stuck spending the evening with me.

She waves a hand. "He's at a friend's house watching the game. Anyway . . . we need some girl time."

We make it to dessert without mention of Edward or the homeless fragrance wafting out of my room. There isn't much talk at all.

Becca insists on clearing the plates then slips a bowl of chocolate pudding in front of me. "Everything looks brighter with chocolate!"

I don't know about that, but I do love pudding, so I scoop a huge spoonful into my mouth. "Mm-mm. Good, Bec." I give her a thumbs-up.

As we're on our second helping of pudding, the inquisitive part of my mind comes back on line. I tilt my head to the side and tap my spoon on the edge of my bowl thoughtfully.

"Bec . . . you know how Tanya was attacked at her apartment?"

"Yeah."

"Well, is that something . . . a guy like Jason Albright might set up?"

Becca's spoon halts halfway to her mouth. "What are you getting at?"

"Maybe that's why Tanya met with Albright at the frat party."

"You think she hired someone to kick the shit out of her? I mean, from what I hear, she had internal bleeding and broken ribs." Becca shakes her head. "That sounds crazy."

"Yeah, but what if it wasn't supposed to get that far?"

Our conversation is interrupted by another volley of texts from Jim, and Becca disappears into her room. I wash and dry the dishes while contemplating my theory about Tanya and Jason Albright. Tanya is certainly crazy enough to pull something like that. Maybe her "attacker" got carried away.

When Becca returns, she's wearing her rattiest pajamas.

"No TV night?" I query.

"Nah. I figured we can watch TV here tonight."

"Okay."

Becca slaps herself on the forehead. "Aw, shit! I left some books in my car, and I already have my PJs on! Damn it all to hell!" She turns and stomps back toward her room.

"Bec! I can get them for you. I'm still dressed."

"Oh, would you? Let me grab my keys." She rifles through her huge drawstring bag and produces her car keys. "I'm parked on the side of the building by the service entrance."

I grab a hoodie and pull it on over my T-shirt then head down the back stairs, wedging a rubber stop under the outside door so I don't get locked out. This side of the building is usually deserted, housing the air conditioning units and a small corral for recyclables. I pause by the door and breathe in the cool night air. The sky is midnight blue and clear, filled with so many stars.

I spot Becca's black Nissan parked under a street lamp and start for it. A figure steps out of the shadows, blocking my path.

"Bella."

It's Edward, but something in his voice and the haggard look on his face as the light illuminates him renders me speechless. Dark circles give his eyes a sunken appearance. It's obvious he hasn't shaven all week, and his hair is a tangled mass of wayward strands. Still, he's more beautiful than any man has a right to be. A wrenching pang twists at my heart.

He uses the element of surprise to his advantage and grabs me by the arms, walking me back against the wall beside the door. I gape up at him, shocked at his nerve but still speechless over his appearance. Up close, his green eyes are dull and bloodshot, but they hold a spark of heated determination as they gaze down at me.

"What—"

He interrupts me with a finger against my lips. "Shh . . . you have to listen to me." His body presses mine against the wall, one arm resting on the bricks next to my head. He traces my lips with his finger. "God, how I miss you."

"Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing here?" I push off the building in an attempt to slip past him, but he just presses in closer—so close I can smell his masculine scent, and my heart beats faster in answer.

"Please . . . please. I love you, Bella."

"Love?" I snort.

"I know I fucked up. Just give me a chance to explain. Haven't you listened to any of my messages?"

"I deleted them. I thought I made it clear—we're done." I shove against his chest, and the familiar feel of him beneath my hands sends pain slicing through my heart and brings tears to my eyes. "Just go. Let me go."

"I can't, baby. After everything we've been through, don't shut me out like this." Edward cups my face in his palm, stroking his thumb over my cheek.

The tears spill over and run down my face. He wipes some away with the pad of his thumb and—dear God!—kisses the rest away. Edward's lips feather across mine, and I breathe him in through parted lips. I'd like to say he's forcing his mouth on mine, but he's not. I could easily pull away, but I remain frozen against the wall and breathe him, allowing him to ghost his lips over mine.

Warm saltiness wets my lips, and I realize Edward is crying. This is too much. Why should we be sharing pain? I press my hands harder against his chest, and he covers them with one of his own, trapping them against his heart.

"Please . . ." he begs against my lips. "Please just hear me."

"Why are you doing this, Edward?" I shake my head sadly.

"Because I love you. I've always loved you. What I did with Tanya . . . it was about you."

"What? Do you know how bizarre that sounds?"

"It's true. I'm ashamed of what I did, of who I became, but that's _not_ the real me." Edward raises his head, placing a finger under my chin, and waits until our eyes meet before he continues. "Bella, the real Edward is the one you spent the weekend with, the man who wants to worship your body and treasure you. Feel this." He presses my hand closer so I can feel the pounding of his heart.

"I saw you on that DVD—the way you were with her."

Edward scrunches his eyes closed. "I didn't realize until I saw the video just how fucked up things were. I have an admission to make—you have to know everything if we have any chance of moving on. I don't remember that night."

"Are you saying Tanya drugged you?"

"Not without my knowledge." When he opens his eyes, they're filled with anguish. "Copious amounts of alcohol were almost always involved, and sometimes . . . I'd take one of the little blue pills Tanya always seemed to have handy."

"You did drugs? Edward, why?"

He presses his forehead against mine, cradling my face in his hands. Even though my hands are no longer being held captive, I keep one over his wildly drumming heart.

"If I tried to be gentle with her or loving . . . if I was sober . . . then _your_ face would haunt me. After a time, I couldn't . . . perform unless I was drunk or high."

I gaze into his eyes, speechless.

**~*Edward*~**

I hold Bella's warmth in my hands. Our foreheads press together, and I feel her trembling against me.

"Y-You thought about me . . . when you were with her?"

Bella is no longer trying to push me away. Her fingers curl around the edge of my jacket and one palm remains over my heart as those beautiful brown eyes look up at me.

"Yes. It became a real problem for me."

I feel human for the first time in days. Sleep has eluded me. I haven't eaten a decent meal all week, and I've barely managed to drag my ass to classes. I found out Bella had the "flu" when one of her professors asked me to convey get well wishes. Her "illness" cut down my chances of a meeting around campus. It took several failed phone attempts and one in-person meeting with Becca to finally set this up. When she got an eyeful of the shape I'm in, she relented and agreed to help me.

I slide my fingers into Bella's silken hair. "Come back to the apartment with me so we can talk."

"I can't . . . and Becca's probably wondering where I am."

"Actually, she's not. Don't be angry with Becca—I wouldn't leave her alone until she agreed to help me." I massage my fingers over the soft skin on the back of her neck. There's nothing I want more at this moment than to fall asleep with Bella wrapped in my arms. Going by the dark circles and puffiness of her eyes, I'm guessing she hasn't slept well this week. I never want her to suffer, but part of me is relieved this hasn't been easy for her either.

She says nothing, just stares into my eyes. My proximity to her after being deprived all week is a temptation I can't resist. I lower my face and capture Bella's lips with my own, careful not to force it. Her body starts out rigid, but when I lick a slow trail across her bottom lip, she grabs at me with a strangled whimper. Bella's arms slide around my shoulders and her fingers claw into the hair at the nape of my neck. I reach down and pull her up my body, supporting her ass and upper thighs as her legs clamp around my waist. I'm not sure how it begins, but our tongues tangle together and her body is pressed between mine and the wall as we grope at each other.

I slide a hand under her T-shirt and encounter a bare breast. Bella's nipple pebbles against my palm, and I moan into her mouth as I work her over. I explore her hot mouth, and memories of our special weekend at the inn wash over me. What I wouldn't give to go back in time and change my actions Sunday night.

I break away from the kiss and whisper, "Come home with me, Bella."

She shakes her head and presses her face into my neck. "That isn't the answer."

"I just want to wrap you in my arms. I haven't slept all week. Please."

"I can't." Bella lets her legs down, loosening her hold around my neck. She cups my face between her hands and gazes up at me with tears shining in her eyes. "Nothing's changed, Edward."

"I did those things with Tanya to survive! I don't drink or take drugs anymore. You're the one I love . . . the one I've always loved."

"And yet you still ran to her. You left me high and dry, worrying about you dead in a ditch. She was important enough to spend the night with."

"No! I fell asleep. She wouldn't let go of my hand . . . and they don't allow cell phones in ICU."

Bella pushes me back, rubbing at her temples. The loss of her touch, her lips, devastates me. I feel her slipping away even though she's only a foot in front of me. She paces back and forth along the wall.

"Let me see if I have this right. You drank, took drugs, and had rough sex with Tanya in order to forget me?"

"You make it sound so simplistic and pathetic . . . but, yes. I've never been very emotional about her. I never worshiped her, Bella."

"After all she's done to us, you showed up when she needed you. That says something, Edward."

"It means nothing! I intended to find out what happened and leave."

"Why didn't you?" Bella stops pacing and turns to face me, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You didn't see her. She was beaten to a pulp. Bruised face, black eyes, broken ribs, internal bleeding. She wouldn't let go of my hand even after they sedated her. I only intended to stay for a short time, but I fell asleep. When I woke up, it was morning already . . ." It all sounds lame as fuck, even to my own ears. "Bella . . ."

"Maybe part of you does want her because—"

"No! Don't say that."

"Did it even cross your mind that she set the whole thing up?"

"What? That's crazy!"

"Is it?"

"She was badly beaten and almost raped! She had internal bleeding! Do you think she did that to herself?"

Bella's expression turns cold. "You still have your head up your ass, Edward Cullen! I'll bet my last _dime_ that Tanya set it up. Very convenient that the DVD was delivered to me around the same time, isn't it?"

"Bella—"

"Don't 'Bella' me! Go home, Edward. Or go back to her. Whatever." She waves a hand in disgust.

"I haven't been back there. I'll never speak to her again."

"Too little, too late." She heads for the door but turns back, pinning me with a glare. "But mark my words—Tanya is guilty as sin. Maybe her plan was derailed, but she was the mastermind behind it. You know what? You're not ready to be with me."

"Wait—"

Bella disappears inside. The slam of the door is as final as her words.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: I've been pretty surprised at how divided my readers are. Some think Edward's an idiot, some think Bella's being too hard on him, and some are angry with them both. Edward developed some serious issues when he was with Tanya, ones he tried to explain away and put behind him without addressing. Bella might need to be more understanding, but it's not always easy when dealing with exes.**

**The next chapter is already halfway written, and the drama will be coming to a head over the next few chapters! Feel free to drop more theories. You know how I love to read them.  
**

**Follow me on Twitter: SaritaDreaming or SarahAisling**

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	26. Chapter 24 The Price of Admission

**A/N: Wow, you guys are all over the map with your reactions to this story! Sarita officially has whiplash. I do love your passion, theories, and even your anger (sometimes). My readers rock the hardest!**

**Happy pills to Keye, Sandy, and Caz for prereading and keeping me amused with their commentary.**

**Huge thanks to my lovely beta, SassySue (Chayasara), for being super fast and helping me clarify a muddy section. My words are always much better after being run through her clarity filter. Mwah!**

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**Chapter 24**

**~The Price of Admission~**

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**~*Bella*~**

Once the door slams shut and there's no longer a reason to prove how strong I can be, I break down. My back hits the door, and I slump to the floor in a shivering ball. The tears pour from my eyes. I pray nobody comes down those stairs right now—especially not Jordin or one of her cronies. I flick the light switch off to discourage anyone from venturing down the stairs.

The doorknob jiggles, followed by a _whump! _as Edward bangs on the door and lets loose a "Fuck!" Then there's a scrape as he slides down the other side. "Damn it, Bella . . . I love you. God, I fucked everything up. My life has been a lie."

I'm not even sure he knows we're inches apart right now, separated only by two inches of metal. I bite my knuckle to hold in my sobs so he won't hear.

"It happened so slowly . . . fuck! How did I not see it? The partying that led to drinking . . . and then that douche-bag Albright and his fucking pills." There's another soft thump, maybe Edward's head banging against the door. "Oh, Bella. I can't lose you again." His barely audible murmur drips with agony, and now I know he believes he's alone.

I have to restrain myself from flinging the door open and throwing myself in his arms, but just like I told him, it's not the answer. Edward obviously has issues he needs to resolve. I can't fix him or be a substitute for what only he can do for himself—and so I remain curled in a ball and wait him out, afraid if I attempt to leave, he'll hear me and begin pleading with me all over again. I'm also afraid I won't be strong enough to say no a second time.

Eventually, the scuff of Edward's defeated footsteps scrape with excruciating slowness along the path leading back to the parking lot. The engine of the Audi revs, and the tires shriek as he peels out.

I remain there with my arms wrapped around my knees until my ass is numb and my joints ache. Unimaginable pain slices through me as I consider how clueless Edward has been about the demons hiding within his own psyche. The bottom drops out of my anger, exposing the rawness beneath. In truth, there's a far deeper issue at work than me being pissed off at Edward.

I bite my knuckle so hard I can taste the saltiness of my own blood. It isn't that I don't believe someone can find his way into hell by making a few wrong turns—I'm just so disillusioned and disappointed that Edward never acknowledged it until I left. Would he ever have made this discovery if not faced with proof on the DVD? I've always thought of Edward as the strong, sure one, but recent events have completely shattered that illusion. What am I left with? Who is Edward Cullen, and is he right for me?

"Bella?" Becca's hushed whisper and the rasp of her slippered feet jolt me out of my thoughts.

"H-Here." My hoarse, disembodied voice echoes around the cavernous stairwell. I flinch, feeling like a stranger in my own skin.

The glow of the emergency light creates a fiery halo around Becca's head when she finally gets to me. She leans down, peering into the darkness. "Where the hell are you?"

"Down here."

"Oh, Bella." Becca hunkers down on the bottom step and leans against the wall, our knees touching. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I ask tonelessly.

"Tricking you. That Edward's plan obviously didn't pan out."

"It's okay, Bec. You meant well."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

Becca and I huddle at the bottom of the stairs until I can bear to get up and put one foot in front of the other.

**~SN**~

Edward left me one voicemail the day after I slammed the door in his face.

"_Bella, it's me. I just wanted to say that I'm going to give you the space you need. I promise not to accost you anywhere around campus again. I just . . . what my life turned into was bizarre, but that's not who I really am. Please think about it. I know you're hurt by what you saw on that DVD—I understand why you would be—but that man, that Edward, doesn't exist anymore. He stopped existing the moment you stood up in that church. I love you, beautiful. Come home to me."_

He's kept his word and hasn't called or shown up at Delaney Hall or anywhere else around campus. For all I know, he could've left Dartmouth. His message let me know he's waiting and hoping, that I needn't be anxious about his absence. It's a precious gift, one I greatly appreciate.

The next several days are a strange mix of emotional turmoil, caffeine, pep talks from Becca, getting back to class, and a dangerous seedling of thought that sprouts and grows no matter how hard I try to ignore it. It invades my mind even in the midst of the most mundane tasks.

I place a dish in the drainer and start scrubbing another, my mind drifting off into its latest obsession. It wanders down dark and twisted pathways crowded with thorns. One thought plagues my every waking and sleeping moment that's not taken up by something else and taints the moments that are. Although I haven't seen or heard from Edward, _this_ thought stalks me wherever I go. It beckons to me, a siren call encouraging me to head down a path I know is dark, and yet I can't seem to stay away.

It doesn't take long for me to give in. In my weakened, vulnerable state, it was only a matter of time. A call from the one person who can help me with my plight seals the deal.

I'm going to do this.

The bleating ring of my cell phone startles me, and I drop the dish back into the pan. Hot, soapy water douses the front of my T-shirt and splashes me in the face.

"Shit!"

I grab the dish towel and mop my face off before grabbing for the phone. _Michael Newton._

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bella. How are you?"

"Mike. I'm kinda surprised to hear from you."

"I got one, too." Mike's voice is soft and sympathetic, a finger jammed deep into an open wound.

A wash of iciness shoots through my veins. "Got what?"

"An unmarked envelope with a DVD in it." Mike sighs. "Bella, what did you do?"

I drop into a chair at the kitchen table, afraid I'll simply fall to the floor otherwise. With my free hand, I grip a handful of hair and pull hard enough to draw the sting of tears. _Tanya sent Mike a copy of the DVD? A copy of Edward's shame and my pain? Who else did she send it to?_

"Dear God," I whisper.

"Bella? Talk to me."

"Mike, where are you?"

"In Florida. Why?"

"Oh."

"Bella, what's happened? You know . . . you know I still love you. I want you to be happy."

"I left him." I stare listlessly at a cobweb fluttering in the corner of the wall.

"You left Edward? Are you crazy?"

"I was crazy to believe . . . we could overcome this . . . _her_." Sobs start hiccuping out of me, wrenching my chest. "Tanya always . . . meant to win. That crazy b-bitch . . . always manages . . . to win."

"No! You can't let her, Bella. Don't make all of this for nothing. You and Edward belong together."

"You sure you watched the same DVD I did?" My voice rises hysterically. "Edward likes it rough! With d-drugs and booze. He . . . was different with me. I'm not enough for him."

"Stop right there, Swan! That sounds more like Tanya talking, not you. It's _you_ he always wanted, not her. What does Edward have to say about all this?"

It's such a relief to have someone to talk to who knows all the angles. Without a second thought I break down, and in between my sobs, I tell Mike everything. Maybe it should, but it doesn't feel weird to confide the entire mess to my ex—the guy who helped Tanya set us up the first time but also gave me the means to help right things. When I finish, the line is quiet for almost a full minute before he speaks again.

"Holy shit, Bell. This is heavy. The thing is, he was doing what he needed to in order to get by."

"You're _defending_ him?" I ask incredulously, swiping at my tears with a napkin.

"Bella . . . sometimes you have to compensate. I'm not defending him, but I do understand him."

"What do you mean compensate?"

Mike blows out a breath then draws one back in. "I'm not saying this to make you feel bad . . . but don't you think I'll have to find a way to compensate when I get involved with someone? Didn't _you_ compensate in some ways to be with me when you couldn't have Edward?"

"I did love you, Mike."

"But you were never in love with me. You were never head-over-heels to the point you'd stand up in front of a church full of people and protest my marriage to someone else." When I remain silent, he goes on. "You finally decided you couldn't do it anymore. For whatever reason, Edward wasn't as strong as you were. I know all about demons, Bella—things that keep you up nights because they own a piece of your soul. On occasion it takes something stronger to take the edge off or to live with it." His tone is faraway now, and I know he's talking about himself, too.

"Did you ever do drugs, Mike?"

"Nah. There were times I got hammered, either because you were slowly growing apart from me or because the guilt of what I did started to eat away at my insides. My point is . . . Edward had his own demons to exorcise. Obviously, Tanya had a strong influence over his experiences. You understand where I'm going with this?"

"Do you think I'm being too judgmental? Because I have to tell you—I have a problem with all this."

"I'm not saying you should ignore Edward's issues . . . just don't slam the door on the possibility of working things out. You two have been through so much, and I'll never forgive myself for my own part in that."

"Thanks for the talk. I promise I'll think about what you said. Do you . . . want a chance to redeem yourself?"

"Hell, yeah! What can I do?"

"Well, I need something specialized that's right up your alley . . ."

The next two days are spent planning. As promised, Mike overnights me a small package from Florida that contains exactly what I need.

When Becca's key fits into the lock, adrenaline flows through my veins. It's showtime.

I suck at being subtle. She's not even through the door before I'm all over her and babbling like a fool. "Becca, I need your help. If you say no, I'll just find another way, so say yes. Help me."

Becca's arms are loaded with a teetering pile of clothes, towels, and books. Her eyes grow wide as she turns and kicks the door shut with her foot. Frizzy hair is piled loosely on top of her head; a few twisted strands that weren't captured rest against the side of her neck. "Huh? 'Course I'll help you, silly! Just let me put this shit away."

I help relieve her of some of the burden, bringing it into her room.

"You might not want to help me when you hear what I'm asking."

"How bad could it be, Bella? This is the first time since—" Becca swallowed hard. "Let's just say, it's good to see you animated."

"Where can I find Jason Albright?" I blurt out. _Great opening, Bella! All the speech practice, right out the freakin' window. Brilliant._

"What?"

"Jason. Albright. Where?"

"Oh, no! You don't want to do that." The towel Becca was folding drops to the floor, and she stares back at me with dismay. "No."

"Yes."

"No." Her head shakes emphatically enough that half of her hair comes tumbling down around her shoulders in a frizzy halo.

"Bec, I'm going to talk to Albright. Either you can tell me where to find him, or I can make a spectacle of myself, but one way or the other, I'm going to meet with him tonight."

She rushes around the bed and grabs me by the arms. Her face is so close to mine, I can count the freckles on her nose. "You don't want to mess with these people."

"I get that—I do. Doesn't change what needs to go down, though. Will you help me, or do I find someone else who will?"

"Well, fuck, Bella! You've put me in an awkward one here. Fine. I'll tell you what you want to know. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Two hours later, I walk into the The Quiet Man, a bar in the seedy part of town. I try to remember Becca's advice, though it's getting jumbled up in my mind. _Walk with confidence. Hold your head high. Dress to kill. Whatever else you do, act like you mean it._

My high-heeled black boots click on the hardwood floors, but I don't hear them. The Quiet Man is not so quiet. I gaze around, taking in the atmosphere. Rock music blares from a jukebox in the corner. A long bar runs alongside the left wall, and every stool is filled. The tables out on the floor are half-filled, and beyond those are four pool tables, two of which are in use. Booths line the wall along the right side.

Black jeans fit me like a second skin, and the clingy magenta V-neck shows a bit more cleavage than I'm used to. My hair is wild and free, teased into a huge mane. I stride with purpose toward the saloon-style doors in the right rear corner and almost make it through them before Gomer Pyle stops me.

"Whoa! Whoa, little lady! Where do you fancy you're going?" A tall guy unfolds himself from the booth beside the doors and steps right in my path. He's tall and leanly muscled, wearing jeans, a plaid shirt, and what looks to be a genuine cowboy hat. He even has a well-chewed toothpick balancing between his lips as he talks.

I rake my eyes over him from head to toe and offer my best bitchy look. "I'm here to see Albright."

"That so?" He laughs loudly. "Who might you be?"

"Impatient."

His smile disappears, and his blue eyes have storm clouds brewing. _Oops._ "Name."

"Bella."

A shadow swells behind the swinging doors and the cowboy turns his head, listens for a few seconds, then nods. "Today's your lucky day, sweetheart." With a flourish, the cowboy holds the door open and gestures me inside.

_Be brave, Bella. Head up. Confidence._

I swagger in as if I own the place.

The doors lead into a dank, dimly lit room. Black, scuffed linoleum and dark wood paneling create a shadowy den. A retreating figure mutters, "Check her out," as he slips through a doorway in the rear corner of the room, and I'm left standing flanked by two bouncer types in tight black T-shirts.

"Any contraband?" one asks in a bored tone while the other crosses his arms over his broad chest and blocks the exit.

"What? No."

"You a cop?"

"No."

"Narc?"

"No."

"Hands against the wall, princess."

Becca warned me of this, so I cooperate. Turning to face the wall, I place my palms on the sticky wood, not caring to know what coats its disgusting surface. The big oaf inserts a dirty work boot between my feet and taps them apart until my legs are spread to his satisfaction. He proceeds to pat me down expertly without leaving me feeling violated—quite a feat when you're in the back room of a seedy bar.

"What's this?" He holds up the recorder Mike told me to plant in my front jeans pocket.

I shrug. "Insurance." _Decoy, asshole._

"What's the bulge in your jacket pocket?"

I glare up at him with scorn. "My car keys. Go ahead . . . dig 'em out, Brutus."

He smirks at me, and I have the insane urge to ask him if he polishes his head. "J-Bird! She's clean. Got a recording device off her."

"That so? Well, send her on in."

Brutus looks down at me, his smirk still in place. "You heard the man. Go on in." He holds up my recorder. "You can pick this up on your way out."

"Gee, thanks." I offer a sneer, my effort to stay in character for what's ahead.

I feel as if I'm about to enter the chamber of the Wizard of Oz. My legs tremble, and I walk forward slowly, parting the wooden beads hanging in the doorway. They make a faint clacking sound as they bump together.

Inside, a young guy sits behind a beat up metal desk writing something in a ledger book. He glances up, and I'm surprised by his appearance—not much older than me with an innocence about his face that belies the danger that lurks beneath. Sandy hair, slightly longer than collar length is tucked behind his ears, and he wears a thick leather strap with a shark's tooth around his neck. There's something surfer-like about him.

He smiles up at me and gestures to a pair of battered leather club chairs in front of the desk. "Have a seat."

I'm thrown by his friendly demeanor and stumble over my feet as I make my way to the nearest chair.

He flips the ledger closed and folds his hands on top. "So . . . Bella, what can I do for you?"

I have his undivided attention. "Are you Jason Albright?"

"I am."

"I need your help."

"_My_ help?" Jason places a hand against his chest, and his expression turns inquisitive. "What could I possibly help you with?"

"Tanya Denali." Pure acid drips from my voice.

"Oh, you're _the_ Bella." Jason nods his head in understanding. "You're far prettier than I was led to believe, fair Bella."

"I need—"

"Uh, uh, uh!" He holds a finger in the air, roots around in the desk drawer, and slaps a little blue pill down on top of the ledger. "Your entrance fee."

"Excuse me?"

Jason pinches the pill between his thumb and index fingers and holds it up. "If you want to do business with me, your entrance fee is this little baby."

"Okay . . . how much?"

"You misunderstand. Swallow it."

"I'm not taking that!"

Jason's eyes harden, the carefree surfer gone, and a flicker of the dirtbag people fear peeks out. "Skip!"

Brutus pokes his head in. "Yeah, boss?"

"Show the fair Bella out. Our business is concluded."

My mouth gapes open. "No! You didn't even hear me out!"

Jason stands up and stalks around the desk, perching on the front corner, and looks down at me with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. He swipes at his nose and laughs humorlessly. "You're in my crib, bitch. I make the rules here. A guy can't be too careful these days—with cops and narcs and such floating around. If you don't take the pill, Skip here will show you out."

All hope of burying Tanya under her own bullshit is slipping through my fingers. Brutus (I think my name for him is better) takes my elbow, and I wrench it out of his grasp. "Fine! Give me the damn pill!"

"Well, all right then." Jason's benign surfer persona smooths back into place, and he drops the pill in my palm. "There's a water cooler in the corner. Skip will supervise. Bottom's up!"

True to Jason's word, Brutus leans against the wall by the water cooler and watches me swallow the pill.

"Open your mouth and lift your tongue."

"For real?"

"Do I look like a funny man to you?"

With a roll of my eyes, I open my mouth wide and lift my tongue. "Happy?"

"Take a seat."

With a huff, I stalk back over to Jason and glare up at him. "Satisfied?"

His eyes harden again. "Actually, no. Sit your ass in the chair, and show me some respect. Remember where you are, Bella. This isn't a high school Kool-Aid cotillion."

I clamp my lips shut and sit in the chair. Only to prove Tanya set up her own beating would I subject myself to this demeaning experience.

"See? You can play nice." Jason returns to his seat behind the desk and looks at me expectantly. "Please state your business."

"Um . . . what will that pill do to me?"

"Think of it as . . . an enhancing agent. Whatever emotions you feel will be amplified."

"So, it's not like GHB?"

"What kind of man do you think I am? All drugs are illegal, but GHB is something I never mess with. BriteBlue will amplify what's already present, but at no time will you do anything you don't want to deep inside."

"How much did Tanya pay you to get her beat up?"

Jason's eyes widen with innocence. "I heard about Tanya through the grapevine. Unfortunate turn of events, but I assure you my alibi is air tight."

"I don't think you did it, but I do think you referred her to someone who did. Look, I'm not interested in getting you in hot water . . . I just want Tanya. Whoever beat her up obviously went overboard. I don't think even Tanya would sign up for what happened to her—he was probably just supposed to rough her up."

"Let's say you're right—what do you intend to do with this information?"

"Expose her for the lying bitch that she is."

"What's in this for me?"

"You get to keep your pretty face intact."

"Are you threatening me?" Jason's laugh was the dangerous kind.

"As I said, I'm not interested in you or your little drug cartel." I wave my hand in the air before standing up and planting my palms on Jason's desk and leaning over in his face. "I just want Tanya's ass on a silver platter, and I'll do whatever is necessary to make that happen. If you're in my way, then you might be a casualty."

"Little girl, you're in way over your head."

**~SN**~

**~*Edward*~**

Bella's words, _"__You're not ready to be with me,"_ cut deep. By the time I reach my apartment, my only thoughts are of drowning in the bottle of Wild Turkey in my cabinet. The first mouthful burns like hell going down, but it's all warmth and numbness from there.

I drink with the lights out, flopping down on the couch without bothering to take off my jacket. I can't—it still smells of her. My face is wet with tears, but I don't feel like less of a man for it. No, that would be reserved for the fucking catastrophe I allowed my life to become while I wasn't paying attention. Pain slams into me, and I moan out loud before taking another swig of bourbon.

Emmett finds me sitting in the dark hours later with the nearly-empty liquor bottle between my legs. He comes in and flips on the light, blinding me.

"Turn the fucking lights off!" My voice is slurred and gravelly, and my mouth tastes like cat piss.

"Aw, shit. She didn't bite." Emmett is great at stating the obvious.

The lights go off, and I wait for my fucking retinas to recover from the blue and yellow Rorschach blotches. Emmett plops down on the couch beside me and throws an arm around my shoulders. I try to shrug him off, but he won't allow it.

"What happened, Eddie?"

"Lemme the fuck alone."

"That's enough firewater for you, bro!" He snatches the bottle of Wild Turkey from between my legs and disappears into the kitchen with it.

A second later, maybe two, I'm asleep.

When I next open my eyes, grayish light spills in through the living room windows. I'm laid out on the couch with one leg hanging off, covered by a blanket. To say I feel like death is a gross understatement. When the memory of last night at Delaney Hall smashes into me like a Mack truck, I begin to wish for it to take me.

The scent of fried eggs and bacon curls up my nose. It smells heavenly for half a second and then I'm up off the couch, stumbling for the bathroom. I fall to my knees and barf up bile and Wild Turkey for the next ten or fifteen minutes. When I find the strength to get up, I brush my teeth twice and scrub my face before stripping down and stepping into the shower. The scalding water loosens my muscles and refreshes my mind.

I don some clean clothes and join Emmett in the kitchen. The smell of breakfast is more palatable this time, and I pull up a stool and shovel eggs into my mouth as if I haven't eaten in days.

"You got classes today?"

"Not until mid-afternoon, thank fuck," I mumble around a mouthful of toast. In the back of my mind, I hear Mom. _"__Edward! Don't talk with your mouth full."_ I try on a smile, but it comes off more like a grimace.

"Good, good. We need to talk. Mano a mano."

I halt mid-chew and glance over at my big oaf of a brother. He takes my silence as encouragement.

"Let's talk about how this whole drugs and drinking shit started, shall we?" He cracks his knuckles.

I shake my head and resume chewing. "Uh-uh."

"Dude, you may not want to hear this, but you need to get to the bottom of your issues, _not_ the bottom of a bottle."

"Em, please. Cut me some slack. I think there's a marching band practicing inside my skull—a bad one."

"Whose fault is that, buddy?" He slaps me hard on the back. "Sticking your head up your ass is exactly what got you here."

I relent and explain the whole ugly scene with Bella. It hurts all over again, like a thousand daggers twisting inside me, and I forget all about my hangover. My breakfast threatens to come back up.

When I finish talking, Emmett stares at me with his mouth agape.

"You're going to catch flies, Em."

"Holy shit! Bella's got some balls, man. You know what, though? She's right. You're not ready to be with her."

"What? Thanks a lot!" I glare at him as best I can with a marching band clanging around in my head. My right eye twitches, ruining the effect, I'm sure.

"Eddie, I'm on your side. You need to dig deep and figure out why you did all that with Tanya. I mean, if you're truly not into the rough stuff . . . then what the fuck was up with that?"

I drop my head in my hands and squeeze. My head feels better this way—as if I'm literally holding myself together. I think it through for a few minutes before I answer.

"Well, at first there was no issue being with Tanya. I was so pissed off at Bella for choosing Mike . . . my anger toward her made it easy to choose the girl who was offering herself to me, the girl who picked me up off the ground that night.

"Things started to change when we were into our first year at Dartmouth, though. There was never any real resolution with Bella, and as the anger and betrayal subsided . . . I started having dreams about her, about being with her. At first I thought they were harmless." I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes and clench my jaw. "But then I would wake up to T, and she was so different—so far from where I thought I'd be. She loved me, hung on my every word—and, God help me, I hated myself for not feeling the same."

"I thought you loved her."

"I did, in my way. There was something missing, though. More and more often, I started dreaming about Bella . . . and then those fantasies intruded into my waking life. I saw her everywhere—in the sun glinted strands of another girl's hair, when a couple walked by laughing and holding hands, or when someone picnicked under a tree . . . because that was too lame for the likes of my high-maintenance girlfriend. Tanya was sophisticated and shallow, and I began to feel like a stranger in my own life."

"Then what?"

"It all got to me, and I started avoiding sex. When I'd open my eyes and realize . . . well, let's just say I started projecting a lot of my resentment onto Tanya. I'd be short with her, and then I'd feel guilty afterward. She sensed something was wrong, and I think she was afraid I'd leave her. When we went to parties, she'd encourage me to 'loosen up' with a few drinks. It seemed harmless enough—and worked for a while." I scrub my hands over my face, a noticeable tremor in my fingers. "This douche, Jason Albright, started showing up at some of the parties. He peddles pills—his own formula—and Tanya started buying off him."

"Like Ecstasy?"

"No, this fucker developed something a bit more subtle. He calls it a 'mood enhancer.' It pretty much takes the mood you're in and . . . amplifies it. Best to take it while having a _good_ time."

"So, Tanya was taking these?"

"Yeah. She only took them on nights we partied, and she was so . . . free. I envied her that, longed to get out of my head. One New Year's Eve at a party, she popped one in my mouth, and I just went with it. We drank champagne and snuck off to a deserted bedroom and locked the door. Tanya was all over me, and the fizz of the champagne with the pill on top ignited this hunger in me. We did it twice—once on the bed and once up against the wall. Tanya was always up for trying anything, and she pulled me along with her." I rake my hands through my hair and tug. Saying all this out loud is hard.

Emmett nods his head, scrubbing his fingers roughly over his short hair. "Fuck, man. I can kinda see how it might have gone down."

"Yeah, well, after that experience . . . it was harder than ever to just do it straight. I'm not gonna lie—with the pills it felt fantastic, and I could get out of my head for a while. In the light of day, I'd sometimes question what we were doing, but Tanya had this way of making me feel like a stick in the mud. She told me I think too much, that I need to let go—so I did."

"Where'd the rough and tumble come in?"

"Like I said, the pills amplify whatever mood you're in. Sometimes I was frustrated with myself for having a dream about Bella, or I hated myself for not wanting T more. She liked it rough—and I guess I channeled some of my frustrations into our sex life. It was like a release valve, and she goaded me . . . encouraged it."

"Eddie, I can see how you were drawn in, but . . . there's gotta be a reason. I mean, after hearing everything, I understand your side and Bella's. Don't be mad . . . but I think you need to see somebody, man."

"See who?"

"A headshrinker. Figure out why you did all that shit, and why even after you knew what a skank Tanya was, you ran to her side."

"I did not _run_ to her side! I just went to make sure she was okay."

"Eddie, I hate to break it to you, but you fucked up. It would have been fine to check on Tanya _if_ you'd called Bella first. You really shoulda called Kate and let her take care of the bitch. Tanya's _not_ your responsibility anymore, man."

Emmett leaves me alone to think. Deep down, I know he's right—and so is Bella. How can I give myself to her completely if I don't know what lies beneath the surface of my own mind? My parents are deeply in love and have a healthy marriage. It's not as if I have a background of insecurity or have reason to believe I'd end up alone, yet my actions tell a different story.

I realize there was a moment in time, a pivotal event that changed me forever. It was when Bella stood up before the entire congregation of Abundant Mercy and fought for us. Now it's my turn.

I leave a message on Bella's cell phone.

"_Bella, it's me. I just wanted to say that I'm going to give you the space you need. I promise not to accost you anywhere around campus again. I just . . . what my life turned into was bizarre, but that's not who I really am. Please think about it. I know you're hurt by what you saw on that DVD—I understand why you would be—but that man, that Edward, doesn't exist anymore. He stopped existing the moment you stood up in that church. I love you, beautiful. Come home to me."_

My next call is to a therapist. The first available appointment is for a week from now. With that done, my focus is on putting one foot in front of the other, soul searching, and fighting to keep my word to Bella by giving her the space she needs.

Each day is colorless without her, every moment torturous. I move through life like a zombie, unable to sleep nights and suffering for it during the days. The mindless numbness that pervades my being is welcome; the thick haze wraps around me like a damp blanket, softening the edges of my pain. I realize I'm in a state of stasis until Bella decides if I'm worthy of taking another chance on.

Kate calls, but I tell her in no uncertain terms that I'm finished with Tanya. She's no longer my responsibility or concern.

"How can you be so cold, Edward?" Kate's voice hitches on a sob. "My baby sis was beaten to a bloody pulp. All she does is ask for you, cry for you."

"I'm sorry—sorry she was hurt and that you have to be in the middle of this, but I'm so done. You have no idea what atrocities your _baby sis_ is capable of." When she draws a breath, I continue before she can ask. "Trust me, Kate—you don't want to know the extent of her deviousness."

"Tell me."

"Just let Tanya know she's fucked with my life for the last time. I won't be taking any more calls from either of you. Goodbye, Kate."

I delete no less than twenty messages off my phone from Kate and Tanya without listening to them and will never be able to describe the feeling of freedom it brings me.

Emmett decides to make this trip into a vacation and stay on at least until I've had my first appointment with the therapist. This turns out to be a lucky break when the phone call from Becca comes in a few days later.

We're slouched on my couch eating nachos and watching a game when my cell rings.

"Hello?"

"Edward, I think I fucked up, and ohmygod, I don'tknowwhattodo." Becca's words come rushing out so fast I can barely make out what she's saying.

"Becca, slow down. What's going on?" I'm up off the couch, pacing back and forth.

"I didn't want to, but she . . . said she'd find a way no matter what. I just . . . I think she's in over her head with this."

I rake a shaking hand through my hair, certain she's talking about Bella, and it's not good. "Is this about Bella?"

"Yeah. Edward, she's at . . . at The Quiet Man right now."

"She what? What the hell is she doing _there?"_ My voice booms through the phone, and Becca whimpers. Emmett is up off the couch and in my face whispering questions, but I don't hear him.

"She's determined to p-prove that Tanya s-set up her attack. She wanted to m-meet with Jason."

"No, no, no! Why would you send her right into the lion's den?"

"I didn't know what to do, okay? She was going to find him no matter what I did," Becca screams back at me and dissolves into tears. "Please . . . you h-have to go after her. I'm sorry. I'm s-so sorry."

"How long ago did she leave?"

"Over an hour ago. I'm sorry!" Becca wails.

"It'll be okay. I'm on my way, all right?"

"Thank you."

I hang up with Becca and stare at Emmett.

"Bro, what's going on?"

"Em, I know I promised not to interfere in Bella's life, but we need to get down to The Quiet Man right now."

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a bar in the shitty part of town—where the douche that sells Tanya drugs does business. Bella is on her way there to try to prove Tanya set up her own attack."

"Aw, shit."

"I'm going to need your brawn to get in there. Albright is always surrounded by muscle. Bella has no idea who she's dealing with."

Emmett smacks a fist into his palm. "Let's go shake some trees and see what all falls out."

My brother looks at this as an adventure, and I'm really glad he's coming with me, but he has no idea what these people are like. That thought has me frantically pulling on shoes and grabbing for my jacket because Bella is even more clueless about what she's walking into. Icy fire lights me up as adrenaline rockets through my veins. I welcome every heart-pounding, hopped up drop—I'm going to need it for what's ahead.

**~SN**~

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**A/N: So . . . go on then. You guys have been having too much fun with me the past few chapters. *Sarita dons padded collar* Thoughts, theories? Please be sort of nice or you might get a lump of coal in your stocking!**

**My wish is that all of you and yours have a wonderful and joyous holiday season. With so many ugly things going on in the world, keep those you love close and let them know how much they mean to you.**

**I'm working on the next chapter of ****_Red Kryptonite_****. I won't make any promises as far as updates go, because of the holidays and such, but I'll make it as soon as possible.**

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	27. Chapter 25 The Quiet Man

**A/N: Hey, awesome readers! Thanks for all your support—it really means the world to me. You guys seem to run the gamut in your reactions to this story, and I thank most of you for keeping the comments polite. Let's join Bella in Jason's office and see what's going on!**

**Huge thanks to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Caz. A bottle of Viagra for Keye. *wink***

**Little blue happy pills to my awesome beta, SassySue (chayasara), for her awesome skillz. Mwah!**

* * *

**Chapter 25**

**~The Quiet Man~**

* * *

_**You may have a fresh start any moment you choose,**_

_**for this thing that we call "failure"**_

_**is not the falling down,**_

_**but the staying down.**_

_**~Mary Pickford**_

**Previously:**

_"How much did Tanya pay you to get her beat up?"_

_Jason's eyes widen with innocence. "I heard about Tanya through the grapevine. Unfortunate turn of events, but I assure you my alibi is air tight."_

_"I don't think you did it, but I do think you referred her to someone who did. Look, I'm not interested in getting you in hot water . . . I just want Tanya. Whoever beat her up obviously went overboard. I don't think even Tanya would sign up for what happened to her—he was probably just supposed to rough her up."_

_"Let's say you're right—what do you intend to do with this information?"_

_"Expose her for the lying bitch that she is."_

_"What's in this for me?"_

_"You get to keep your pretty face intact."_

_"Are you threatening me?" Jason's laugh was the dangerous kind._

_"As I said, I'm not interested in you or your little drug cartel." I wave my hand in the air before standing up and planting my palms on Jason's desk and leaning over in his face. "I just want Tanya's ass on a silver platter, and I'll do whatever is necessary to make that happen. If you're in my way, then you might be a casualty."_

_"Little girl, you're in way over your head."_

* * *

**~*Bella*~**

I glare at Jason Albright over the top of his desk. "That may be true, but I'm desperate and determined. That two-bit floozy is not getting away with this shit again."

Jason tilts his head to the side. "Again?"

"Yeah."

"Sit down, please." His voice is kinder now, and I oblige him only because I think he might be willing to hear me out.

"Look, I'm really sorry, but you have_no _idea what this bitch has done to me." I rub a hand over a sudden itch creeping over the back of my neck. Sweat has broken out on my forehead and upper lip, and the room seems different somehow—bigger and warmer. I also feel lighter and look down to be sure I'm not floating up from my chair.

Jason folds his hands on top of the ledger book and gazes back at me with big blue eyes full of sympathy. "Tell me all about it."

So I do. My lips are loosened by his attentive, sympathy-filled stare—and maybe that little blue pill. The way he sits there, listening with rapt attention, makes me feel as if my plight matters to him. He looks appropriately horrified in all the right places.

"I had no idea Tanya was that manipulative. It sounds more like a movie plot than something that really happened."

"Yeah," I snort derisively. "My life is like a fucking soap opera. And now she's done it again, manipulating everyone around her to get what she wants. Will you help me?"

Jason stares back at me, and time seems to stretch out. I sweat. My neck crawls with itchy sensations. My cheeks are on fire, and I think I ask him for a glass of water because one appears in front of me. He laughs when I miss my lips, and his warm fingers cover mine on the glass and help guide it to my mouth. The water feels cool and soothing as it flows over my dried-out tongue.

"This water is awesome!"

Jason laughs, shaking his head. "Oh, dear . . . I've got a lightweight on my hands."

"A light what?"

"Nothing. Just relax, fair Bella. I'll be back in a few." He presses the glass into my hand and clamps my fingers around it. "Try not to spill this, okay?"

I giggle. "Okey-dokey!"

The discolored suspended ceiling fascinates me. I lean against the chair with my head tilted back and try to count the dots on one of the panels, becoming frustrated when my eyesight blurs and I have to start over. I manage to hold onto the water and take a few more sips of the healing liquid, wondering where the magic wellspring is located.

It's so hot in here. I place the glass on the desk and wriggle out of my jacket, bunching it behind me. Sweat trickles between my breasts, and I dip a finger between them to swipe it away.

My mind wanders down many a twisted road . . . laundry piling up at the dorm, term paper due at the end of next week, missing Charlie. That leads me to think about Forks and traveling home with the express purpose of breaking up Edward's wedding to Tanya, and _that_ leads me to contemplate all that occurred since—an ever snowballing series of events that landed me here in this seedy bar trying to prove what a treacherous lying bitch Tanya is.

In fact, it seems that everything bad that's happened in my life over the past several years is Tanya Denali's fault. A sizzle of anger makes its way through my veins until it grows into a conflagration. It's all I can do to keep myself from bolting out the door and finding her. I don't care that she's had the shit kicked out of her; I'd like nothing more than to add to her pain. My chest is tight with rage, and it's hard to catch a deep breath.

"Oh, yeah . . . I want a piece of you, bitch," I mutter.

It's so hot in here. I bet it would be cooler outside, and then I could go find Tanya . . .

The clacking of beads interrupts my fantasy.

"Bella! You're not leaving us yet, are you?" Jason heads over and puts gentle but firm hands on my arms.

I didn't even realize I was standing, but I am. "It's really hot," I mumble. _And I was going to look for Tanya._

"Sit, sit. I'll let some air in."

Jason props open the back door, and a heavenly cool draft washes over me. It feels so good. What was I about to do? Oh, he might be able to help me nail Tanya's ass to the wall. I look up at Jason, and he's sitting behind the desk again with his chin on his hand, watching me with amusement.

"'Wasso funny?" I slur.

"I'm going to assume you're not very good with narcotics, fair Bella. Bet you can't even handle pain killers, hmm?"

I giggle. "Oh, no! The dentist gave me something when I had my wisdom teeth pulled—why the hell do they call them wisdom teeth anyway? Do they make us smarter? Noooo!" I laugh some more. "What was I saying?"

"The dentist gave you something . . ."

"Oh, yeah! He gave me Darvon, and it felt like I was floating two feet off the floor." I pull at my shirt. "Is it hot in here?"

"Nope. My boys have shriveled up like prunes."

"You gotta help me, J-bird. 'S a coooool nickname, by the way."

"You need some focus. It'll take time for the drug to wear off. Why don't you let one of my guys drive you home?"

"Bah!" I laugh rudely and point at Jason. "How stupid do you think you are? I mean . . . do I think I am?" The words tumble around in my head like little word puppies chasing their tails. I know what I want to say, but the path from my brain to my mouth is one fucked up road.

"Just trying to help. You can't drive in your condition." Jason heads over to the closet and offers me a blanket. "Here. Why don't you sleep it off?"

"I'm roasting hot, dude!" I pull and tug at my top until I feel cool air caress my skin. I slump in the chair, not caring that my tatas are half hanging out. "Oh, yeah . . . there we go. You got any ice cubes, J-bird?"

Two things happen at once. Maybe three or four—I'm not too good at keeping count right now.

Jason smirks at me as he gets up from his desk.

A loud ruckus comes from outside his office during which I'm pretty sure I hear the booming voice of Emmett Cullen.

A scuff by the propped-open door to the alley draws my attention to a tall, lean figure with sex hair, frozen mid-step in the doorway.

"What the ever loving _fuck_ is going on here?" The voice is outraged, hell on my ovaries, and so very angry Edward.

"Edward . . ." My mouth drops open even as my panties grow damp at the sight of him in all his fierce, handsome glory. Sex on legs.

"Cullen!" Jason's smirk grows wider as he hands me an ice bucket with a chuckle. "Here's your ice." I get the feeling he wishes it were a bucket of popcorn he could settle in with instead.

I'm not so far gone that I miss Edward's angry green eyes when they meet mine like heat-seeking lasers. He looks pretty pissed . . . and really, really hot.

An uncontrollable and completely inappropriate giggle escapes from between my lips.

Well, fuck.

**~SN~**

**~*Edward*~**

As we race out to the car, I realize how unlikely it is that Emmett and I can handle this situation on our own. Albright tends to have muscle around him. I also realize I'm short on time—Bella is already at The Quiet Man, and she _doesn't_ know what the deal is.

"E, why are you hesitating?" Emmett punches me on the shoulder.

"I just don't think the two of us are enough, Em. There's probably gonna be five or six of them."

"You got a cavalry to call? If not, I say we wing it, bro."

"Fuck."

We get into the car, and I drop my head against the steering wheel. I hate dragging innocent people into the middle of my shit, but this is Bella. "There is someone I can call."

"Well, do it!"

I dial Eric on my cell. "Eric, man, I need your help."

"Edward! What's up, my man?" He seems cheerful, and there are other guys whooping and hollering in the background.

"Bella's in trouble. I don't have time to explain the whole thing, but she's down at The Quiet Man right now with Albright, and I need to get her out of there."

"That fucktard? What can I do?"

"I need numbers. Right now, it's just me and my brother."

"Hold on a sec . . ." There's brief muffled discussion in the background and a string of curses from someone before Eric comes back on the line. "You're in luck. I've got a few guys here watching the game—one of which is Becca Turner's boyfriend. Jim hates Albright. The four of us will meet you there."

"Thanks, Eric. I owe you, man." I hang up and turn to Emmett as the car roars to life. "Got four more guys on the way."

"Shiiiit, this is gonna be too easy." Emmett grins.

I've never timed the drive to The Quiet Man before, but I'm pretty sure I break a record by arriving in twelve minutes. Eric's car screeches up behind me, and the four of them gather around me. I recognize Becca's boyfriend and have seen the other two around campus but don't know them personally.

"Guys, I can't thank you enough for helping me out."

"What's the plan, Edward?" Eric asks.

"I think we're evenly numbered. Let's just muscle our way in there, grab Bella, and get the fuck out."

"Whoa, hold up." Jim Frake grabs my arm. "You _never_ come at these guys from one direction. There's an alley outside Albright's office, and there're always guys keeping lookout. Two of us should take the alley. The other four go in through the bar where most of his guys hang."

I nod. "That makes sense. Bella's probably in Albright's office, so I can get to her easier that way. Jim, since you know how things operate, why don't you take the alley with me?"

"Sounds good, man."

"Emmett?"

"I got this, bro! You just get Bella." Emmett leans forward and we bump fists. "See you on the other side. Let's go crack some heads, boys!" He leads Eric and the other two guys in through the front door of The Quiet Man.

The end of the alley closest to us has a high fence with a locked gate.

"Edward, there's usually one guy in the alley, maybe two. I'll distract or take them out while you go after Bella." Jim talks quietly as he leads me around the back of the building, accessing it from the other side. "When we get into the alley, there's going to be a green metal door. That's Albright's office. When you get Bella out of there, don't go toward the gate—it's a dead end if you don't have the combo."

"How do you know that?"

Jim clenches his fists and his face tenses. "It's a long, ugly story. Let's just say Albright has this coming and then some. We need to be silent now."

As we round the rear corner of the building, a guy leaning against the bricks smoking comes into view. He glances up curiously, but when his gaze lands on Jim, fear fills his eyes.

"Well, look who it is. Long time no see, dirtbag." Jim moves in quickly, grabbing the front of the guy's jacket and pulling him in close. "Who else is out here?"

"Nobody, man. What the fuck you want?"

"Go on, Edward. Dickhead and I will have a little chat while you take care of biz. Right, asshole?" Jim shoves the guy against the wall, the cigarette creating a shower of sparks as it falls from his hand and hits the pavement.

Those two obviously have some history, but I'm not about to hang around and discover what it is.

Even though the guy said he was out here alone, I peer cautiously around the edge of the building and take in the alley. The long, narrow space is empty with the exception of some wooden crates piled up against the wall. The green metal door Jim mentioned is propped partway open, and light spills out, shining off the damp pavement. Further down is the locked gate we originally saw from the front of the bar.

I rush up the alley as stealthily as possible, keeping close to the wall. The open door will afford me partial cover if someone happens to step out before I reach Albright's office. The mumble of conversation drifts out, and then Bella's voice rings out loud and clear.

"I'm roasting hot, dude!" She doesn't sound like herself, and her next words are further proof that something is off. "Oh, yeah . . . there we go. You got any ice cubes, J-bird?"

_J-bird? Ice cubes?_

A ruckus breaks out deeper within, and I know Emmett and the others have arrived—a perfect time for me to slip inside while they're distracted. I slide around the door and halt on the threshold of Albright's office.

Bella is sprawled in one the chairs in front of his desk. Her hair is . . . big and sexy. She's wearing more makeup than usual, her lips painted a deep shade of purple but lighter than her shirt, the neckline of which is spread wide and low—and she's _not_ wearing a bra underneath. The barest hint of a pink nipple is visible on one side.

Albright is on the other side of his desk rooting around in a small refrigerator.

"What the ever loving _fuck_ is going on here?" I demand about the same time Bella startles, glancing up at me with glazed eyes.

"Edward . . ." she whispers, looking me up and down. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was hot for me right here, right now.

"Cullen!" Albright smirks, handing Bella an ice bucket with an amused, "Here's your ice."

Bangs, slams, grunts, and muffled cursing continue somewhere inside the bar.

I'm speechless. This isn't how I planned for this to go. The thought of Albright looking at Bella's tits—even if it is just their creamy tops—disgusts me. I glare at Bella, wondering at her lack of modesty. Our eyes meet, and again, she looks nervous for a second before her sable eyes do that "melty" thing they do when she's hot for me. She's aroused by me busting in the door while she's half-exposed to this dirtbag?

When a giggle bursts forth, Bella finally has the presence of mind to look horrified and slaps a hand over her mouth. Unfortunately, it's the hand holding the ice bucket, which crashes to the floor and sends ice skittering across the worn linoleum in every direction.

"Ooops."

My angry gaze turns on Albright. "What the fuck did you do to her? If you laid a hand on her—"

His amused expression turns hard, his slate eyes sparking like chips of flint. Before I have a chance to register his movements, he grabs hold of my jacket and propels us back against the wall beside the door. My head slams against it, and something topples off the shelf above me and hits the floor with an ear-splitting crash.

"I'm a lot of things, Cullen, but I don't take advantage of innocent women! Maybe you should ask yourself what _you_ could've done different, huh?" I'm relieved there's no alcohol on his breath.

I shove him hard, and his determined grip on me sends us both careening to the floor when he stumbles over a pile of books and loses his balance. My shoulder rams into the edge of his desk on the way down, and I yell out in pain.

We both sit up, panting heavily, and rub our respective sore spots.

"Are you done, Cullen? Ready to sit down like an adult?" Albright glares at me as he sweeps straggled hunks of his mussed up hair behind his ears.

I glance over at Bella—who's now fast asleep in the chair, oblivious to everything.

"Yeah, we can sit down."

"The noise out front have to do with you?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck. I don't need this kind of attention. Wait here." Albright disappears through a bead curtain, and a few seconds later I hear, "Cut the shit, boys! No need for fighting. Cullen and I are ready to have a peaceful discussion."

"E, that true?" Emmett bellows.

"Yeah, Em. We're good here, but don't go anywhere."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Hey, hey!" Albright yells. "I said no more fighting. You can lick your wounded pride later, asshole."

After a few more mumbled instructions, he comes back through the door and sits behind the desk with his feet up. "Well, fuck me sideways. Haven't had excitement like this in a good long time! Nobody around here dares. My guys _are_ a bit out of practice," he says almost apologetically. "Where are my fucking manners? Sit! Can I get you a drink?"

I look him over warily and take the empty chair next to Bella. "No thanks."

"Need a fix?" He grins.

I come half way out of the chair then think better of it. He's not worth it.

"No? Probably not a good idea tonight."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Not a thing, my man. She is fiiiine. Beautiful and innocent . . . you really shouldn't let her run around the seedier parts of town alone."

"You said you're honorable—"

"About girls like her, yeah. I'm just fuckin' with you. Bella seems to be a bit of a lightweight." Albright shrugs as if I'm supposed to know what he means.

"Is she drunk?"

"No. She walked in here with a recording device, a set of brass ones, and wanted to do some business. You know what the entrance fee is in my house."

With dawning horror, I realize he drugged Bella. "You fucking drugged her? Does she look like a goddamn narc to you?"

"She also threatened my pretty face. Your girl may be innocent, but she has a determined hatred going for Tanya that could be her downfall—Tanya's that is. In any case, narcs come in all shapes, sizes, and degrees of innocence these days. A guy can't be too careful. And, hey—it's not like I forced her to swallow the pill."

My fingers tighten around the arms of the chair. "If I find out otherwise, Albright—"

"Don't waste your breath threatening me. She'll corroborate my story." He waves a bored hand. "Kindly take your girlfriend and get the fuck out of my office."

"Not so fast. Bella has a theory that Tanya set up her own attack, and you helped her do it. Is it true?"

He rolls his eyes and laughs. "I'm in the pharmaceutical field. There's no mustache twirling done here, and I don't beat up chicks for kicks. Hey, that rhymes! But I'm not a fucking poet, either." He levels a glare at me, all amusement gone. "I resent the things I've been accused of today, though I have to say it was a bit more tolerable coming from the fair Bella."

"Did Tanya come here asking?"

"I also practice client confidentiality—otherwise, I'd be out of biz." Albright drops his feet down and slaps his hands on the desk. "Now, unless you want to make a purchase . . . gather up your girlfriend and get out. I'm going to give you a freebie on this one—no retaliation. But I never want to see your fucking face here again unless it's for something _little_ and _blue_. Got it?"

"Yeah."

"Skip! Show Mr. Cullen's friends in." Albright looks over at me. "What happened to my guy in the alley?"

"He's talking to Jim."

"Frake?"

"Yep."

"Cullen, Cullen . . ." He laughs humorlessly and shakes his head. "I don't want to see you or any of your friends around here again. I'll keep my word, but this is bullshit. I have a business to run here, not a fucking side show."

Skip escorts my brother, Eric, and the other two guys into the small office. They all have cuts and scrapes, Emmett the beginning of a shiner that matches Skip's bruised knuckles, but they're all standing. Bella snores lightly in the chair. I lean over to tug her jacket out from behind her and lay it over her exposed cleavage.

Albright looks around the room, meeting each man's eyes in turn. "I've told Cullen here that all is forgiven as far as tonight goes, but I never want to see any of your faces here again. I won't do business with any of you—and if someone mentions they know you, I won't do business with them either. We're square. Now get the fuck out—through the alley and around back. Tell Frake the same goes for him. I never want to hear his name again."

Everyone nods and files out except Emmett, who stands behind Bella's chair like a sentry. "What the fuck's wrong with Bella?"

"She's fine, Em."

"Skip, to say I'm disappointed would be a fucking understatement. This kind of shit—" Albright waves an accusing finger around "—will never again in this life happen. If it does, heads will roll. Now train those slackers, and have them clean this shit up after I leave tonight."

"You got it, boss." Skip backs out the door, giving Emmett a wary glance and a wide berth.

"Oh, and Skip . . . return the fair Bella's recording device to Mr. Cullen, please."

Skip reenters the room and hands me a small USB recorder.

Albright claps his hands together. "And now our business is concluded! Have a nice life—stay the fuck out of mine."

I shove the recorder in my pocket and scoop Bella into my arms. Emmett follows me out, and we make it to the car with no sign of Albright's guys. It seems he intends to keep his word.

I thank Eric, Jim, and the others for their help, and they assure me it was a lot more fun than sitting around watching their team lose the game.

Emmett drives and I sit in the back with Bella cradled on my lap. As I situate us in the car, she stirs slightly and slides her arms around my neck, laying her cheek on my shoulder.

"Where to, bro?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Just away from here for now."

Emmett is starting to know his way around town, and after I direct him through the dark streets, he takes over, pulling into the deserted lot at Longchamp Lake.

"I need some air, and I'm gonna call Rosie." He lumbers out of the car and strolls off with his cell pressed to his ear.

I know he's just giving me some much-needed time—to hold Bella, to get my head together, to decide with the fuck to do now.

"Edward . . . love you," Bella mumbles against my neck.

Logically, I know she's still under the influence, but her words go straight to my dick. Fuck, we both miss her.

"I love you, too, beautiful. Everything's gonna be okay. Promise." I kiss the top of her head and tighten my arms around her.

"So sorry . . . miss you so much . . ."

Maybe the right thing to do would be to bring Bella back to Delaney Hall, but fuck that. I'm taking her home with me where she belongs.

When we get back to my place, I carry Bella inside and strip her clothes off, slipping one of my T-shirts over her head. Honestly, I could leave her as she is, but the primal part of me that wants to lay claim to her won't hear of it.

Stripping my own clothes off, I don a pair of sleep pants and a T-shirt and slip into bed beside Bella. I hold her close all night, ignoring my body's urges. I do a lot of times tables, but picturing Emmett in a bikini really seems to do the trick.

Around four in the morning, Bella stirs. Her breathing is raspy, and she sits straight up with a gasp.

"Where am I? What the fuck?"

"Bella, it's all right." I grab her flailing arms. "You're safe."

"Edward?"

"Yeah. You're at my apartment."

I prepare myself for the onslaught of her anger, willing to take whatever she dishes out.

It never comes.

"Oh, God, Edward . . ." Instead, she dissolves into tears and tries to pull me closer. "I m-miss you so much. I'm sorry I've been such a bitch."

My brow creases in confusion, but I'm more than happy to oblige and hold her tighter. "Shh . . . beautiful. We'll get through this. We need to talk."

"Mm-hm."

"For now, just rest. Let me hold you while you sleep . . . please."

"Okay."

Bella's arm snakes around my back, and she presses her face into my neck with a soft sigh. I stroke her hair and whisper to her softly until she falls asleep, and then I finally join her.

**~SN~**

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**A/N: These two need to talk. Thoughts and theories? You know I love to hear 'em!**

**Thanks to all of you who send me emails and PMs asking about updates on my stories. I appreciate your patience and wish I could clone myself so I could write faster. Alas, there is only one of me. I believe the next updates will be ****_Red Kryptonite, Broken Windows, I Want It Painted Black._**

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	28. Chapter 26 Chance Discoveries

**A/N: Hello, awesome readers! I'm sorry it's taken so long to continue this story. Thank you all for the patience, kind words, and PMs. Between busy life and some rude people, I lost my desire to write this for a long time, but the encouraging messages and my disgust for unfinished stories brought me back.**

**Love to my rockin' prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Caz, for their feedback and friendship.**

**Thanks to SassySue for the beta job. Bow to her awesomeness—she makes my words readable.**

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**Chapter 26**

**~Chance Discoveries~**

_**Fate is nothing but the deeds committed in a prior state of existence.**_

**~Ralph Waldo Emerson**

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**Bella**

I stare at Edward over his breakfast bar. Steam from the cup of black coffee sitting in front of me curls up my nose and blooms in my sinuses. I can't say I have a hangover, but my memory of last night is cloudy, and a dull throb pounds behind my eyes.

Edward busies himself making breakfast even though it's well past noon. A yellow dishtowel is draped over his left shoulder, and his muscles bunch beneath his snug, black T-shirt as he works the omelets and turns the bacon. Normally, he'd be naked from the waist up, wearing a pair of jeans or sleep pants, maybe even just boxers. I think he covered up for me.

We haven't spoken beyond my blubbering in bed last night. I think he's afraid I'll leave. I'm afraid of that, too.

After spending some time with Jason Albright last night—did I _really _call him J-bird?—and taking his little blue pill, I understand Edward a bit better. I understand how he behaved in a way that was unlike him because I certainly wasn't myself last night. That doesn't mean we can forget everything and move on. No matter how much I want that, want him, there's a reason he turned to alcohol and drugs that goes deeper than losing me in high school.

Wrapping my hands around the steaming cup, I lift it to my lips, reveling in the warmth radiating into my hands. The coffee is scalding hot, but I ignore the burn and take a few sips. I'm glad Edward is busy cooking with his back to me. I'm scared that we'll never work out, that I'll keep losing him over and over. I close my eyes and drink again.

"Earth to Bella . . ." Edward lays a gentle hand on my arm, looking down at me with concern. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Starved."

"Then why aren't you eating?"

I glance down and realize there's a plate of eggs and bacon at my elbow and wonder how long I've been lost in my thoughts. "Oh . . . sorry."

Edward leans against the counter with a plate in his hands and starts scooping eggs into his mouth. His lips fascinate me, especially when I'm trying to avoid looking him in the eye, but I manage to hold my fork without poking an eye out and start eating.

Edward breaks the silence rather abruptly. "I'm seeing a therapist. I mean, I'm going to. I made an appointment." When I simply stare at him with my mouth half-open, he puts his plate on the counter and runs a hand through his hair. "If I'm ever going to be good enough for you, I have to find out what caused this, me, to drink and take drugs. You left Mike when you realized he was wrong for you—I allowed Tanya to lead me down the road to substance abuse. What the fuck is wrong with me?" Edward slams his fist on the counter, causing his plate to clatter.

"Edward . . ." I shake my head, unsure what to say to that.

He turns his back on me again and plants his hands on the counter, head drooping. "I had everything growing up—parents who loved me and each other, a close-knit family. Am I broken? This shit just doesn't make sense, but, Bella . . . God, I have no right to ask this." He falters.

"Ask."

"I want you to come to the therapist with me. This concerns you as much as anyone. Our future might depend on this. I don't want secrets between us."

I lay my fork down. "Are you sure?"

Finally, Edward turns, pinning me with determined green eyes. "Absolutely sure. Will you do this for me?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." He blows out a breath.

Tears burn my eyes, and I look down at my hands, shaking my head. "Edward, I—I just . . ."

He covers my hands with his own. "It's all right. Whatever you think or feel is all right. I'm just grateful that you're here and willing to come to my appointment."

The tears won't stop, and Edward ends up pulling me over to the couch and cradling me in his arms. I feel scraped raw, dueling emotions fighting a war inside me. On the one hand, I want to shove him away and run, never looking back, but an ever-increasing part of me needs him in order to breathe.

**~SN~**

The next few days are full of classes and studying and avoiding my feelings. I've fallen behind on my coursework and have started to feel the crunch. Becca welcomed me home with a tearful hug, but we don't speak of the Jason Albright debacle. We sit on the floor in the living room, drink too much Mountain Dew, and study.

Edward texts me—a lot—but he doesn't push to see me in person or talk on the phone. We agreed to meet for the therapist appointment; that's all I'm willing to give him for now.

I knock back several gulps of Mountain Dew, then tilt my head back against the couch and rub my eyes. "Fuck."

Becca looks up, a pencil dangling from between her lips. "Hmm?"

"My eyes are blurry. Even the Dew can't keep me focused long enough to catch up."

"What are you having the most trouble with?"

"Psychology. The text is complicated and dry. I do great when Professor Sorenson lectures, but . . ." I shrug.

Becca smiles like a Cheshire. "I think I can help you out. I take Sorenson's class, too, and the text _is_ yawn-worthy." She leans over and roots around in her messenger bag, pulling out a flash drive and holding it up. "Last week's lectures are on here. You have something to copy them to?"

"Shit, no." I hang my head. "Wait a minute! Yes, I do! That stupid thing may as well do _something_ to help me." I rush into my room and dig around in the jacket I wore to The Quiet Man, coming up with the MP3 recorder Mike sent me.

Becca transfers the files for me, and I tuck it away for later, thankful I won't have to yawn my way through the textbook.

After another hour, Becca pushes her pile of books and papers aside and looks at me expectantly.

"What?"

"Have I waited an appropriate amount of time? 'Cause I'm about to implode."

I stare at her blankly. "Fill me in?"

"Exactly! When are _you_ going to fill _me_ in on what's happening? Jim told me part of it because he was there the other night, but what's up with you and Edward? I mean, lots of texts keep flying back and forth, but you haven't left our room."

"Well . . . I'm keeping an open mind. Edward scheduled an appointment to see a therapist, and he's asked me to go with him. Until then, he's giving me space."

Becca leans her head back on the armchair and brushes her hair back, eyeing me from beneath her hand. "Couples therapy?"

"Not exactly. He wants me there for moral support and to show he has no secrets from me."

"Are you going?"

I hesitate a moment, knowing I already committed to standing beside Edward as he goes through this—whatever _this_ is. "Yeah. I have to see this through—even if we don't end up together."

Becca's eyes widen. "You don't think it'll work out?"

"I'm all in. I love Edward, but I don't know if I can be with him. Our past is so . . . heavy."

"I hear you." Becca pats my leg. "We're doing TV night."

"No."

"Yes. It'll be fun."

I shake my head. "Facing down Jordin and her following is not my idea of fun."

"Bella, she doesn't own the place! We have a right to have some fun." Becca's eyes flare with righteous indignation.

"Possession is nine tenths of the law. Jordin has fooled everyone else into believing she's the Queen of Delaney Hall." I blow some wayward strands of hair out of my eyes, reminding me I've been rocking the homeless look for too long. "Bec, I just don't have the energy to deal, okay? I'm gonna take a shower and catch up on some sleep, but you go ahead."

"Nah. It's not the same without you. I might head over to Jim's for a while."

Once we clean up the living room and Becca leaves, I take a long, hot shower. I attempt a clear mind, but images of Edward's bloodshot eyes keep intruding. So do the tears and the indecision.

I towel myself off then dry my hair, closing my eyes and allowing the whir of the dryer to lull me. I pull on my fuzziest sleep pants and a T-shirt and burrow under the covers.

On the nightstand, my phone chirps, and I snatch it up eagerly.

**Tomorrow's the day. I'm nervous but glad you'll be w/me. ~E**

**I'm glad too. And nervous. ~B**

**Wish I could wrap myself around you and sleep. I miss sleep. ~E**

**I miss you. Let's see how tomorrow goes, okay? ~B**

**K. Miss you, beautiful. Sleep well. ~E**

**You too. ~B**

I place the phone back on the nightstand, but it beeps again a minute or two later.

**I love you. Please don't respond. I just needed to say it. ~E**

I curl up on the bed with my cell cradled to my chest and allow the tears to fall freely. I love Edward with all my heart, but will it be enough?

Even though I eventually fall into a dreamless sleep, I move through the next day like a zombie. My professors eventually give up expecting semi-intelligent answers and ignore me. I sit alone under a tree at lunch and munch on an apple, biting well into the core before I realize it. I've been lucky enough to slog through the past few days without seeing Jordin and wonder how long my luck will hold. I'm sure Tanya won't be back to school for a while, and I'm relieved. She may have been brutally attacked, but I still have the urge to pummel her for that DVD—and I'm still convinced she set up her own attack.

When classes reach their end, my anxiety ratchets up at the thought of going to Edward's therapy appointment. He's picking me up at Delaney Hall at five, leaving me time to drop off my books and change my clothes but little else.

I pace the living room until I hear the familiar rumble of Edward's car pull up and then grab my purse. I'm relieved he parked on the side of Delaney Hall; I'd rather not do the walk of shame past all my dorm mates on the way out and risk running into Jordin. At the last second, I decide to toss in the MP3 player and a set of headphones. Edward invited me to come to the therapist, but I'm sure he'll want some privacy. God knows I _need_ to listen to my psychology lectures if I don't want to fall further behind.

When I push open the door at the bottom of the stairs, Edward is leaning against the wall, waiting.

"Bella." Edward's voice is hoarse. He reaches a hand out to catch the edge of my sleeve between his fingers but remains in place. The gleam in his eyes communicates how hard it is not to crush me in his arms.

Steel-toed boots, dark-wash jeans, and a black leather jacket give off an edginess at odds with his freshly shaven face and dark-circled, bloodshot eyes. He looks like a ghost of himself, and I have the sudden urge to cry.

"Hey." I look away from the intensity burning in his eyes. He still has a hold of my sleeve as if he needs us to be connected somehow. My heart thumps behind my ribs, an aching reminder.

He tugs me toward him by my sleeve, stepping in close at the same time, giving me a scintillating whiff of leather, aftershave, and Edward. Fingertips tentatively skim my cheek, sending a tingle skating across my skin.

I rest my forehead against his sweater and immediately regret it. He's so warm and smells so much better up close—a living, breathing man with needs and regrets, not just the jerk that made mistakes and hurt me. "Edward . . ." My tone is beseeching, but I don't even know what I need. To push him away or pull him closer? Do I toss my hands in the air and forget Tanya Denali ever existed? But I can't do that. I shake my head slowly, my forehead rubbing against his warmth.

"I shouldn't have—I should give you your space." Edward lets go of my sleeve and moves to step away, but I grab his fingers in mine.

"Don't." I close my eyes and rest my cheek against his chest, my fingers sliding beneath his jacket alongside his waist. "Sorry if I'm sending mixed signals. It's not fair to you."

"Shh . . . it's okay." His arms come around me, and he slips his fingers into my hair, stroking lightly. "Bella, you have every right to be confused. I'm grateful you're speaking to me at all, that I can put my hands on you. God knows . . . I don't deserve you."

I tighten my arms around him and hold on. "Let's not do this anymore, okay? Nobody's perfect, and you're trying to figure things out." I lift my head and gaze into his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. We're doing this—together. Now, where's this doctor's office?" I smile bravely and swipe away a few tears.

Edward grabs my face and kisses me quick and hard. "God how I love you."

"I love you, too."

Edward looks down at me with wonder. "You're amazing." This time when he lowers his mouth to mine, his kiss is soft and probing, filled with so much emotion. We cling to one another for a long time, and I hope after his appointment tonight, the healing can begin.

Edward drives slowly, and we hold hands. I sneak glances his way every so often, and though there's still a great deal of tension tightening his jaw, he seems more relaxed.

We pull up in front of a brownstone on a side street downtown, and he rushes around to the passenger side to open my door. When I take his offered hand, I feel it shaking. We ascend the steps together and enter the foyer. There's a directory just inside, listing the offices in the building.

Edward runs a finger down the list. "Here we go." He leads me three offices down and opens the door. The waiting area is small but warm and inviting. New age instrumental music plays softly in the background. Before we have a chance to sit down, a door across the room opens, and a tall, willowy woman breezes through it.

"Welcome. You must be Edward and Bella. I'm Dahlia Pyke." She steps forward with her hand out, shaking first with Edward then with me. Dr. Pyke's brassy, shoulder-length hair swings as she turns and beckons us to follow. "Come on in. Get comfortable." Her gypsy-like, pale blue skirt swishes around her legs as she moves lithely through the door to her office and settles in a huge leather recliner. A yellow legal pad and glass of water rest on the table beside the puffy chair.

Edward leads me inside, and we settle on the leather couch across from Dr. Pyke. We sit with our legs touching, my hand still wrapped tightly in Edward's. My mouth is suddenly dry, my breathing shallow.

Dr. Pyke smiles knowingly. "Bella, there are bottles of water in the little fridge to your right."

Thankful, I grab a small bottle for each of us, using the opening of the cap and taking a drink as time to calm down. Edward's left hand fists on his thigh, his knuckles white.

"Edward, we spoke briefly over the phone, so I have an idea why the two of you are here. If you're agreeable, I'd like to speak to you alone first, and then—"

Shaking his head, Edward interrupts Dr. Pyke. "Absolutely not. Bella stays." He tightens his grip on my hand, and I don't mind the dull ache one bit.

Dr. Pyke tilts her head and smiles. "May I ask why you're so adamant about that point?"

"Secrets and misunderstandings are a huge part of what we're battling. I want Bella to realize how committed I am to her—to us—by providing full disclosure."

Tears spring to my eyes, and I lean my head against Edward's shoulder. "You don't have to do this, Edward. I know how committed you are."

Edward reaches over to caress my cheek. "Bella, it's okay. I want you here. There's nothing I can't say in front of you."

"If you're sure . . ." I'm uncertain and elated at once.

Dr. Pyke claps her hands together softly. "All right, then. Let's begin."

**~SN~**

**Edward**

My heart is full as I sit beside Bella on Dr. Pyke's couch. I don't deserve her kindness and loyalty—I know this—but I have it and intend to be sure she never again regrets placing her trust in me. I grip Bella's hand tightly, afraid if I let go I'll lose my nerve. I clear my throat and meet Dr. Pyke's calm blue eyes. "Where would you like to begin?"

She picks up the legal pad and slips a pen from the pocket of her blouse. "Wherever you're led to. Tell me the story of Edward. Then we can dig deeper."

I find myself beginning with high school and meeting Bella. The first time she came to Biology and her soft brown eyes met mine, she flushed a deep pink, bit into her lip, and caused an uncomfortable below-the-waist reaction in me that was difficult to get under control before the period ended. Through most of class, I clenched my fingers together and tried not to think about doing bad things with and to her.

I move on to how we danced around our attraction for months, and it was seeing her flirty and relaxed at Mike's party that finally gave me the courage to go for it. Back then, I never had to chase girls. They flocked to me, vying for my attention. Bella was different, and I think that's why it hurt so much when I put myself out there and then saw her sucking face with Newton right after.

It's difficult to go into the time after Bella, when I courted Tanya, asked her to marry me, and started down the steep slope of alcohol and little blue pills and rough sex.

A sense of pride and awe fills me when I describe how Bella realized Mike was wrong for her and broke things off with him _before_ she knew about his deception, how she braved interrupting my wedding to Tanya even though she didn't know how it would play out. I place a kiss on Bella's temple and put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

I cover events up to the present time, including Tanya's revealing DVD being delivered the same night as her assault, Bella's trip to The Quiet Man looking for evidence of Tanya's deception, and our newly affirmed commitment to get through all of this together.

I lift a hand in the air, palm up. "That's me in a nutshell, Doc." My mouth is dry after all that talking, so I lean forward to twist off the cap on the water bottle and drink it down in one long swallow.

Dr. Pyke smiles, her blue eyes twinkling. "You've given me an excellent overview of your relationship with Bella and your ex-fiancée, but we need to dig deeper."

"That's it. I started with the day I met Bella, what else is there?" I shrug my shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable.

Bella lays a hand on my leg, and I look into her eyes, finding acceptance and reassurance in their warm depths.

Dr. Pyke shifts in her chair, placing the legal pad—now covered with notations—on the table and sipping her water. "I'm going to assume you weren't _born_ seventeen, so there's much more territory to cover."

"You mean my childhood? How is that relevant?" I feel and sound defensive.

Dr. Pyke raises a hand. "Why don't you tell me a bit about your family life?"

"Okay. I have wonderful parents, an older brother, and a younger sister. We're all really close. I grew up in Forks and didn't leave there until it was time for college."

"Are your parents together?"

"Yes."

"Any separations?"

"No, never."

"How about your siblings? Are they in healthy relationships?"

"My brother Emmett is happily married, and my sister Alice recently met someone special."

"Any other significant relations you haven't mentioned? Did you ever spend time away from your family when you were young?"

"No."

Dr. Pyke looks thoughtful, her brow wrinkling the slightest bit. "I see. All right, we're about out of time for this session. Edward, I'd like a moment alone with you, if Bella doesn't mind."

We look to Bella, who shakes her head and stands. "No problem at all. It was nice to meet you, Dr. Pyke."

Dr. Pyke rises and shakes Bella's hand, then leads her back to the waiting area. "I'm sure we'll be speaking again." Dr. Pyke closes the door gently and takes a seat behind the large mahogany desk on the other side of her office. "Why don't you have a seat over here?"

I join her, sitting in one of a pair of leather chairs facing her desk.

She temples her fingers and stares down at the desk blotter for a few moments before raising her head. "Edward, your abuse of drugs and alcohol, coupled with the way you rushed into a serious relationship with Tanya, is an indication of deeper issues. In order to help you, I need complete honesty. Now that we're alone, maybe you can speak more freely?"

I stare back at her open-mouthed. "Really, Dr. Pyke, I wasn't just paying you lip service about being completely honest with Bella. There's nothing else to tell."

She stares hard at me for a while, and I force myself not to look away. Finally, she nods her head. "All right. Okay. Well, there are certain . . . symptoms, if you will, produced by childhood traumas. You are exhibiting some of them."

"Explain that to me, please."

"In your case, being so willing to believe that Bella, a shy girl you flirted with for months, would abandon you so callously. By your own admission, you never gave her a chance to explain herself."

I shrug. "Okay, so I was a stupid teenager with hurt male pride."

"I might concede on that point." Dr. Pyke nods. "Then you took up with Tanya, a girl you had no previous interest in, and became serious so quickly that the two of you took off for Dartmouth later that year and moved into an apartment together rather than utilizing the dorms."

"Once I got to know Tanya . . . we hit it off. I _did_ love her."

"You stated earlier you were never head-over-heels in love with Tanya. You also mentioned agonizing over the decision to propose to her."

"We _were_ still in college," I point out, beginning to feel annoyed.

"Exactly. Why not wait until the two of you finished your degrees and established careers?"

Anger flares inside me, my muscles going rigid with tension. I look back at Dr. Pyke and wonder what her game is, but she's sitting calmly behind her desk with her hands folded, watching me carefully. There's no challenge in her stare. I fight to remind myself she's not the enemy. "I—" My shoulders sag, my gaze dropping to the plush burgundy pile. "Part of me was afraid to wait." My voice is hushed, the embarrassment evident.

"What did you fear would happen if you waited?"

"I don't know. Maybe I thought Tanya would get tired of waiting for me to ask." I shake my head. "No, that's not it. The ring . . . I could breathe once it was on her finger. It was as if it bound us together in a deeper way, and I didn't worry so much." I keep staring down, the carpet fibers blurring as my eyes lose focus.

"Worry so much about what?" she asks, so low it's almost a whisper.

"Being left behind. Abandoned." The words slip out, but now that they've been said, I realize they're true.

"I want you to think back to your childhood. Did you ever feel left behind or abandoned, especially by a mother figure?"

I don't hesitate. "No, I had an idyllic childhood and a wonderful, nurturing mother." I can't stop the smile that breaks out on my face when I think of my mom.

Dr. Pyke nods, a slightly puzzled, thoughtful expression on her face. "Edward, I'd like you to give this more thought before our next session. I believe something from your childhood has contributed to the patterns of behavior you're exhibiting. Usually it's easier to pinpoint, but it's there somewhere."

I nod, rising from my chair and shaking her hand. "Thank you." I glance at my watch and realize nearly two hours have gone by. "And thanks for the extra-long session. I hope I didn't encroach on another appointment."

"Not at all. I always try to leave extra time for new patients—just because initial meetings tend to be more intense, and I do hate to usher someone out in the middle of a revelation." Dr. Pyke joins me in front of her desk and walks me to the door. "It was great to meet you. I look forward to our next session."

I feel like an ass doing this, but that doesn't stop me. "So . . . you think I can be fixed? Bella and I have a chance?"

Dr. Pyke looks up at me with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "The issues can be addressed and corrected . . . as long as you put the work in. Bella is a lovely girl with a solid head on her shoulders and obviously devoted to you. Let's see what happens."

When I return to the waiting room, Bella is curled in a chair by the window with earbuds in. I take the opportunity to observe her for a moment, grateful once again that she hasn't given up on me. Her chestnut hair is mussed and slightly frizzy from the wind. She gnaws on her bottom lip, brows drawn together in concentration, and her alabaster skin is paler than normal. The recent lack of sleep shows, but she's never looked more beautiful to me. Just before I reach her, she looks over at me as if sensing my presence.

Bella's eyes light up. "Hey!" She presses a button on her MP3 player and tugs on the wires, pulling the earbuds out. "How'd it go?"

"Good. Let's talk on the way." I place a hand on her elbow and guide us out of Dr. Pyke's office.

Bella stumbles on the way down the hall, and I catch her in my arms. We end up facing one another, chest to chest. Bella draws in a breath and looks up at me with wide eyes. "Edward, what's wrong? You're practically racing to get out of here. I thought . . ."

I watch her berry-stained lips move, but the words no longer register. At some point, I give in to need and press my lips to hers. Bella's mouth is warm and inviting. She grabs onto my jacket, pulling me closer. I slip the fingers of one hand up her back and tangle them in the hair at the nape of her neck, pressing her against the wall and kissing her hungrily. I grasp the back of Bella's thigh, encouraging her to wrap her leg around mine. I let go of her hair to skim my hand along her neck, snagging the hoodie and baring her shoulder. I want her right here in this hallway where anyone might come upon us.

Bella moans softly, her fingers digging into my hair. When I start tugging at her jeans, she freezes, turning her face. I nudge the tip of my nose along the side of her neck, just the way she likes it.

"Mm-mm . . . Edward, what are you doing to me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I chuckle against her skin and start working at her jeans again.

Bella goes rigid and insinuates her palms between us, pressing against my chest. "No, really. What are you doing?" She doesn't look pleased.

I allow her leg to drop back down but keep her sandwiched between me and the wall. "Trying to canoodle my girlfriend?"

Bella looks up at me with a wrinkled brow. It's the same expression she has when her homework doesn't make sense. She places both palms on my cheeks, bringing our faces closer together. "This isn't you, Edward."

"Who is it, then?" I joke, but the accompanying smile sticks to my face, feeling unnatural. An uncomfortable feeling starts twisting inside me, a dark snake of unfamiliarity.

"That's a good question."

I place my hands on Bella's hips and rest my forehead against hers with a sigh. "You're right. I'm sorry, Bella. I don't know—the session with Dr. Pyke . . . it brought up . . ." I flounder.

"Unpleasant feelings?"

"Yeah. Stuff. Stuff that I need to start working on."

"I'm here for you." Bella goes up on tiptoe and kisses me softly. "Let's get out of here."

We hold hands on the way to my car, and I try to convince myself the deviant urges that just struck me only have to do with being attracted to my girl.

Once we're in the car and on the way to pick up dinner, the insinuations Dr. Pyke made keep nagging at me, and I have an uncontrollable urge to call my mom. Bella encourages me, so I do.

"Hey, Mom."

"Edward, hi! I'm so glad to hear from you. You don't usually call during the week—is everything okay?" My mom's sweet voice chases away the darkness, and I can breathe again. Does this sound like a neglectful parent? Dr. Pyke must be way off base.

"Everything's fine, Mom! I just left Dr. Pyke's office. She's the psychologist I told you about."

"How did it go?"

"Good. Bella came with me. She's right here—"

"Oh! I'm so glad to hear that. Hello, Bella!"

Bella smiles. "Hey, Esme! How are you and Carlisle doing?"

"Things are wonderful here." Mom is silent for a moment. "Thank you for not giving up on my son."

My face heats. "Mom!"

Bella smacks my arm. "Edward, stop!" she stage-whispers then raises her voice again for my mom. "I love him very much, Esme. We're doing this thing together, working through it."

"Good. Edward, make sure you treasure her!"

I sneak a glance at Bella's blushing face as I guide the Audi into the parking lot of Tony's Pizza and snag a parking spot. "Oh, I do. Believe me." Putting the car in park, I slide my hand up Bella's shoulder and caress the back of her neck.

"I'm really glad to hear from you, but you still haven't told me why you're calling."

"Can't a guy just call to say hello?"

"Of course! But there's more to this—a mother knows these things."

I rest my head against the back of the seat and grip the steering wheel with both hands. For some reason, I can't touch Bella while I say this. "Mom, Dr. Pyke is convinced some of my issues stem from childhood."

"What issues?" She sounds dubious.

"I don't want to go into detail, but the short of it is . . . she feels I believed too easily that Bella ditched me _and_ that I was too hasty getting involved with Tanya."

My mother huffs loudly. "Well, it's easy to make snap judgments over things that happened years ago. What does she really know about your life after one session?"

"Mom, I think she's right. Like I said, there are things I'd rather not get into."

"You're not keeping things from Bella, are you?"

"No." I release the steering wheel with my right hand and reach out to twine my fingers in Bella's. "Ma, I need to ask you something." My forehead scrunches, and I tense up.

"Sure, sweetie."

"Dr. Pyke asked about my childhood, and I told her what wonderful parents you and Dad were. She seems to think there's a darkness in my past that left some kind of hole, something that makes me fear being left alone and abandoned. She said it's often caused by a neglectful mother figure, which I know isn't the case. I can't think of anything that fits but figured I'd ask you."

"Maybe this Dr. Pyke is a quack!" Mom's tone is pure acid. I can count on one hand how many times I've heard her sound this way.

"I don't think she is. What she said feels right."

"You think I neglected you?" There's a quiver to her voice, and I think she might start crying.

"No! Mom, no." I bang a fist on the steering wheel. "Maybe something happened when I was little to make me feel insecure at a subconscious level. Did you and Dad ever go on vacation and leave us with someone?"

"We always took you kids with us. You hardly ever had a babysitter, and it was always Mr. Young's daughter, Beth."

My mom sounds defensive, and I feel like dirt. "Maybe there's some other explanation, something from school or—I don't know. If you think of anything, let me know."

"Of course, darling. My cell is ringing—I have to go. Love you!" She disconnects without waiting for me to answer.

I slam my fist on the steering wheel again. "Fuck! Now I insulted my mom!"

Bella lays a hand on my leg. "Esme understands. You _had_ to ask."

"I guess. God, why is all this so hard?"

"Let's get takeout and bring it home."

Those words capture my attention. "Home?"

"Yeah. Mind if I spend the night?"

"Mind? Bella, I'd love that. Hell, I need that." I picture Bella wrapped in my arms all night. I might spend hours just watching her sleep, but it would be worth the bloodshot eyes this time.

"I do have to catch up on my Psychology class." Bella holds up the MP3 player. "After that, I'm all yours."

"I have some work to do, too. We can lounge in bed after pizza—or with pizza."

Two hours later, Bella and I are lounging on my bed. Some of her things are still in my apartment, and after we ate, she changed into a pair of black yoga pants and a white tank top. I donned a pair of sleep pants and a T-shirt. The covers ended up shoved in a huge lump to the bottom of the bed, and the almost empty pizza box is on the floor to one side. Bella ate two slices, and I snarfed down four without a second thought. Having Bella here is good for my appetite and my heart.

I shift against the headboard and wiggle my legs, adjusting the laptop spread across my thighs. This is the first time I've been able to get any quality work done since things went wrong.

Bella lies on her stomach, facing away from me, and uses the lumpy covers as a makeshift pillow while she catches up on her Psychology lectures. Her feet swing to and fro with hypnotic slowness. My gaze slides along the back of her thighs to the delectable curve of her ass and higher, to the strip of creamy skin showing between the band of her pants and the edge of the tank. She may as well be naked for all the dirty thoughts flooding my mind. I reach a hand out and caress her delicate ankle, slipping my fingers under her pant leg to caress her calf.

Bella freezes, turning her head to look back at me with a half-smile. "What are you doing?"

"Touching you." Closing the laptop, I lay it on the nightstand and lean over, pressing my lips to the bony part of her ankle. Then I lick a circle around it and give myself a mental high-five when Bella hisses and squirms.

Bella presses her face into the blankets with her arms up over her head and partially hanging off the end of the bed. I take that as surrender and start kissing and licking my way up her leg. When I get to the tender little hollow behind her knee, she giggles uncontrollably. I can't stop myself from grabbing her legs and flipping her over.

I've missed hearing Bella's happy sounds, so I straddle her and start tickling her. She thrashes beneath me, screaming and laughing until she loses her breath. I stop torturing her and gaze at her flushed face and bright eyes.

The mood in the air shifts to one of quiet awareness. We gaze into each other's eyes, and my heart starts beating faster when Bella reaches up and trails her fingers over my chest. A rush of desire flares inside me. I stretch my body over hers, resting on my elbows and framing her face between my palms.

"Bella, I miss you."

"Me, too." She rubs her hands along my arms. "We're going to be okay."

"Are we?"

Bella bites her lip and nods. "I wasn't sure before we saw Dr. Pyke, but I am now."

I ghost the tip of my nose alongside her neck, reveling in her sudden indrawn breath, and whisper against her skin, "What changed?"

She shivers beneath me and digs her fingers into my forearms. "I—I'm not sure. Maybe it was listening to you pour your heart out today—or the talk you had with Esme. I just know I'm not giving up on us."

I swipe a thumb over Bella's cheek, whisking a stray tear away, and bring my lips down softly on hers. I kiss her slowly, reverently. This time it isn't about something dark and needy. This time I know she's mine. Bella's not leaving me. She wants to support me, be there for me.

With a soft sigh, Bella's fingers release my arms and rake down my sides, gripping the cotton of my T-shirt tightly. Her hips rise, brushing against mine.

I quickly roll us until she's on top, wanting the moves to be hers. "I'm yours, Bella. In my heart, I've always belonged to you." I gaze up at her, open and vulnerable, willing her to see the truth in my eyes.

Bella grabs my face and places adoring kisses over my forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and chin. Her plump lips draw fire up the side of my neck and across my jaw until they meet mine. She opens to me, our tongues tangling languidly.

It's enough just to kiss and touch, getting reacquainted and strengthening our bond. I'm not ready to make love to her; there's a darkness inside me that needs to be addressed first. Bella doesn't push beyond making out as if she too senses the need to wait. After putting the bed back together, we fall asleep wrapped in each other's arms, chest to chest, our legs entwined.

Sometime during the night, I sit straight up in the dark with my heart slamming. I can't remember any dreams, but fear floods my veins and steals my breath. I reach for Bella and find empty space. The sheets on her side are cold. Did I dream her?

"Bella?"

I stagger out of the bedroom and find Bella slumped over the breakfast bar with her earbuds in and a half empty glass of milk beside her. I turn off the MP3 player and gently tug the headphones from her ears. Bella barely stirs as I scoop her into my arms and carry her back to bed. Once she's snuggled against me again, I fall into a deep sleep.

In the morning, I slip out of bed quietly. Bella mumbles and flops onto her stomach with her face mashed into the pillow. I head to the kitchen to make some chocolate-chip pancakes, an old favorite from when I was a kid.

The smell of pancake batter and melted chocolate rouses Bella from her slumber. She rubs her eyes as she stumbles to the breakfast bar. "Need coffee. Please."

I pour a steaming mug from the coffee pot and place it in front of her. "You didn't sleep well. Is something wrong?"

Bella grips the mug with both hands and breathes deeply. "Thank you." She takes a few sips and yawns. "Everything's fine. I'm just worried about catching up on my lectures. I'm really behind."

I plate up the pancakes and make a whipped cream smiley face on top before placing them in front of her and grabbing my own dish. We sit in companionable silence, eating pancakes and drinking our coffee. I can't help but reach for the can of whipped cream and squirt some on Bella's nose.

She giggles and wipes it off with her index finger then smears it over my lips. "Whipped cream can be a _lot_ of fun. Have to keep that in mind . . ."

It feels so good and natural to be with Bella like this. Tanya was always so rigid and formal; there were few spontaneous moments of laughter and fun. She actually chastised me a few times for acting silly.

I lick the sweetness from my lips. "What are your plans today?"

"I have two late morning classes. After that, I'm planning to do more studying. You?"

"One late morning and one early afternoon." I start clearing the breakfast dishes. "You want to crash here later? You can study, and then I'll take you to dinner."

"Sounds great."

I breeze through both classes, feeling lighter than I have in a long time. As I walk across the quad, enjoying the cool spring air, I reflect on my life and how close I came to losing Bella. A goofy grin spreads across my face when I think about going home to her. Maybe I can convince her to spend the weekend at my place.

"Must be nice," a caustic voice calls out from behind me.

I turn and come face to face with Jordin. She stands with her arms crossed, a bitchy look on her face.

"Jordin." With a curt nod, I start walking away and hope she doesn't follow.

No such luck. Dragon red talons dig into my arm. "Not so fast, Cullen."

I brush her hand off and sneer at her. "Watch the leather."

Jordin glares up at me, her pretty face cast in hard lines. Even in stilettos, she's a full head shorter than me, but that doesn't diminish her fire. "Explain to me how you could abandon your fiancée after she's been beaten and almost raped. You cut off all contact and chase after that floozy? I heard how you made an ass of yourself at Delaney Hall, begging that twit to take you back. Can't believe I missed out on that."

I glare up at the sky and huff. "Jordin, this is none of your business."

"T's my bestie, so I'm making it my business. You have no idea of her mental state right now. She's devastated!"

"Are you aware of what your _bestie_ is capable of? Do you have any clue what she's done to me? To Bella?"

Jordin throws her head back and laughs. "Bella crashed the wedding, and _you_ left Tanya at the altar with her ass flapping in the breeze. The way I see it, any digs she got in are well deserved." She steps in closer and pokes a finger into my chest, her eyes radiating anger. "She should have ripped your balls off and rammed 'em down your disloyal throat!"

I seethe, wondering just how far Jordin would go for Tanya. I grab her by the arms and give her a good shake. "Was it you? Did you help her do it?"

"Help who do what?" Jordin kicks me in the shin with the pointy toe of her shoe, and I let go of her reflexively.

"Ow!" Pain burns and throbs up my leg. "Pay someone off to beat Tanya up!"

"_What?_ Are you delusional, Edward?" Jordin seems genuinely shocked. "Is that what you're trying to do—blame Tanya for getting beat up when you weren't there to protect her?"

"It's not my _job _to protect her anymore! I moved out of my apartment because Tanya wouldn't leave me the fuck alone!"

"Do you really believe she would willingly go through the nightmare of being attacked just to get at you?"

"Yes—no. I think she paid someone to attack her, and he took it too far." I shake my head and stare at the ground. "Even Tanya wouldn't put herself through _that_ on purpose."

"How generous of you." Jordin snorts and tosses her long, raven hair over one shoulder. "Edward, she needs you." Her tone is softer now, pleading.

"She manipulates."

"Tanya is devastated and depressed. Please. Have a heart. Just go see her, talk to her."

I clench my jaw and close my eyes. Bella would never forgive me. I shake my head. "I can't."

"Pussy whipped much?" Jordin shoots back.

"Screw you, Jordin! After the night I spent at the hospital, I told Kate that I'm done with Tanya and all her bullshit, and I meant it. She's out of my life. I'm done."

Jordin places a hand on my arm, and looks up at me with a vulnerable expression. It's the softest look I've ever seen on her, and I realize for the first time how beautiful she could be. "Edward, all things aside—she really needs you. I've never seen T like this. I'm . . . scared."

I avoid Jordin's eyes, gazing down at her crimson tipped fingers resting on my arm instead. A sense of dread unfurls inside me. It isn't like Jordin to show a softer side, and I'm afraid if I ask why she's so frightened for Tanya that I won't be able to live with the answer. "Don't do this, okay? Tanya has a supportive family—and she has you. It's ridiculous to believe there's anything one person can do above all the others."

"Really? Even when it's the love of your life?"

If Jordin's words were delivered harshly, it would be so easy to blow her off. This bitchy harridan is begging me when she'd much rather rip my balls off and stuff them in my mouth, and I know it costs her. I grab her wrist and remove her hand from my arm. "I hear you, Jordin, but I'm not the love of Tanya's life. I'm collateral damage. Maybe she never leveled with you about everything that's happened, and I'm not about to go into it with you either." I take a step back and shake my head. "Leave Bella and me alone. It's nice that you defend your friends—maybe you should make sure they deserve it first."

I leave Jordin standing there with her mouth open. She doesn't yell or come after me, and when I reach my car and look back, she's still standing in the same spot.

I rev the Audi's engine and peel out of the parking lot. My insides feel as if someone plunged a hand inside me and twisted. If Jordin is this concerned about Tanya, it must be serious. That pains me, but as I told Kate and Jordin, Tanya's no longer my responsibility. Whatever she suffers now, she brought on herself. Part of me wants to try to help her, but I already know how that would turn out. I refuse to destroy my life again because of her.

My cell vibrates in my pocket. When I catch a red light, I pull it out and page through my texts. Apparently, I missed a few when I was occupied with Jordin.

**At your place studying. Can't wait 2CU ~B**

**You are not going to believe this shit! ~B**

**EDWARD! Where the hell are you? Call me ~B**

My heart speeds, all sorts of nefarious scenarios going through my mind—not the least of which is Bella being accosted by Tanya and Co. Now I wonder if it was Jordin's plan to delay me all along. My foot punches the accelerator as soon as the light turns green. I'm only a few blocks away from the apartment, so I don't bother calling Bella back.

When I open the door, I don't know what I'm doing to find.

Bella paces the living room floor with her earbuds in, spewing curses. She strings her words together so creatively that for a moment I stand there gaping. Then I remember her progressively frantic texts and wave a hand to get her attention. "Bella! What's going on?"

She startles, feet tangling as she abruptly turns my way and sits down hard on the floor. I rush over to offer a hand, but she looks up at me with mischief glinting in her eyes and pulls me down next to her.

I rest on my knees and cup Bella's cheek, gazing into her eyes, and attempt to discern how upset she is and how bad it is. Finding her here alone fills me with relief, but my heart still races from the flood of adrenaline. "Want to tell me what the hell is going on here?"

Bella presses her lips to mine then scoots back against the couch and pats the floor next to her. "I'd rather you experience my discovery firsthand."

I plop down beside her, our legs touching, and let out a short laugh. "If your language when I came in is any indication, I'm not going to like this discovery of yours."

Bella tilts her head and chews her bottom lip. "Well . . . I'm not sure what to think about this. It's not good news exactly, but I think it might help us. I _think_."

"Spill it already!"

"Oh, and why are you so late? I was dying here!"

"Jordin cornered me on my way home." I grimace.

Bella's face twists with revulsion. "What did _she_ want? Nothing good, I'm sure."

"Does it really matter? She spewed a bunch of accusations, told me how terrible I was being, and begged me to see Tanya. I shut her down and gave her a few things to mull over."

"Edward—"

I raise a hand to stop her. "Don't worry. I told Jordin that I'm done with Tanya—and I am."

Bella smiles strangely. "You might sort of change your mind about that."

"Not a chance."

"Promise me something?"

"Anything."

Bella's nervous fingers play with the wires of her headphones. "Don't do anything rash. I almost did, but we need to be smart about this."

I grab Bella's hands and still them before tipping her face up to mine and kissing her. "Bella? If you don't tell me what the hell you're talking about right now . . . I _promise_ to do something rash."

"Okay, okay!" Bella unplugs the headphones from the MP3 player and fumbles with the buttons, paging through files. "Here it is. I almost missed it—probably would have if Bec hadn't given me these lectures to listen to."

"Your big discovery is on your MP3 player?" I ask with a measure of skepticism.

"Not just _any_ player—the one I took with me to The Quiet Man that night!"

"But I thought Albright stripped it off you before you went into his office."

"He did. Edward, would you just shut up?" Bella presses a hand over my mouth and punches the play button.

The recording starts with fumbling sounds and muffled voices conferring some distance away. The drone of the bar is off in the background. The scuffle of footsteps comes closer, and then a conversation begins.

_Skip, my man. You have any idea what the fair Bella is here about?_

_Nope, but she's ballsy._

_True that. She thinks the Denali bitch paid me off to get herself beat up._

_Why would Tanya pay you to mess up her fine ass? Hey, didn't she get really fucked up recently?_

_Sure did. Supposedly an ingenious plan gone wrong. I admit Tanya did sniff around here, but I cut her off before she could outline her plan. I don't get involved in that kinda shit._

_So you think she found someone to do it?_

_Yep. Someone that took shit too far. Who do you know that would get involved with such a twisted scheme and manage to get that into it?_

_I dunno._

_Think about it. Who's the most depraved asshole you know?_

_Phil Grayson._

_That's exactly who I was thinking of. Go take a look out front and make sure everything's running smoothly. I'm going to finish up my biz in the office._

_Okay._

One set of footsteps fade before Albright's voice comes through the recorder loud and clear: _Don't say I never gave you anything._

Bella watches me carefully.

It takes me a few moments to digest the conversation. I don't know why, but Albright decided to throw Bella a bone. The shock is closely followed by burning anger. "Son of a bitch! You were right! I can't believe she's that demented . . ." I shake my head, confounded. "I can't believe I ever loved her."

Bella places a gentle hand on my arm. "You loved who you thought she was."

I laugh bitterly and shake my head. "You're far too kind, Bella."

"No, I'm not! You heard me when you got home. I've just had more time toacclimate to Tanya's latest betrayal." Bella's face puckers, her brown eyes filling with fire. "_Poor_ Tanya, laying in the hospital all busted up, almost raped by the dirtbag _she_ hired to make the attack look authentic. Too bad for her this Grayson guy apparently has a taste for it."

I shake my head. "Yeah, it's real hard to muster up a drop of sympathy for her now. Bitch."

"I hate to say this . . . but she brought it all on herself. Nobody deserves to be raped, but I'm kind of glad that he busted a few of her ribs." Bella slaps a hand over her mouth, looking horrified. "I'm sorry. That was wrong."

I grab her hand and pull it away from her face. "No, it was honest. I feel the same way. It all has to stop somewhere."

"How about in an orange prison jumpsuit? I think we have her now."

I look back at Bella for a moment, considering her words. It seems this might be the opportunity we've been waiting for—if we can prove she paid off this Grayson guy.

A knock interrupts my thoughts. "What now?" I mutter. "Are you expecting anyone?"

"No."

"Stay here." Steeling myself, I stalk over to the door and wrench it open.

My mother stands in the hall, nervously wringing her hands. A brown duffel bag rests on the floor beside her. The sudden opening of the door seems to startle her, and when she looks up at me, I'm shocked by the deep, brownish-purple circles beneath her eyes.

"Mom? What's wrong?" I stick my head out and glance up and down the hall. "Where's Dad?"

"I—I came alone."

Dread coils tight in my abdomen. "Is everyone all right? Is it Dad?"

Mom brushes her uncharacteristically mussed hair out of her eyes with a shaking hand. "Everyone's fine. I just couldn't stop thinking . . . after our conversation yesterday. I had no idea this would happen." Tears shine in her familiar green eyes. "Edward, there are some things you need to know."

**~SN~**

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**A/N: I'd love to know your thoughts—as long as you either fawn all over me (kidding) or have something constructive to say. Flamers (especially anon ones) will be hosed down unmercifully. There are a few chaps left on this one.**

**I have a dystopian fanfic that is a companion to an original story I write and post on an original fiction blog. It's being converted to an Edward/Bella pairing, and the first chapter will post shortly. If you like the whole "virus sweeps the earth, leaving few survivors" type of story, you'll probably enjoy it. AH with typical chapters of 1-3K. *Guaranteed to post bi-weekly due to my commitment to produce OF content for the blog.**

**Follow me on Twitter: SaritaDreaming or SarahAisling**

**My website: www . SarahAisling . com**

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**Fanfic Blog: SaritaDreaming . wordpress .com**


	29. Chapter 27 WashAwayThatWhichisNotTruth

**A/N: Hello, awesome readers! Ready to learn some seKrets?**

**A fondle from Edward to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Caz. Love to my awesome beta, SassySue (chayasara), for untangling my word yarn.**

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**Chapter 27**

**~Wash Away That Which is Not Truth~**

_**The greatest enemy of any one of our truths may be the rest of our truths. ~William James **_

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**~*Bella*~**

When Edward walks into the living room with Esme, I'm surprised. The surprise turns to shock when I take in her disheveled appearance and the dark circles under her eyes. I've never seen Esme look haggard.

Edward's face is tight, concern flooding his bloodshot eyes. He has a duffel bag over his shoulder, which he drops behind the couch.

"Mom, can I get you a glass of water or something to eat?"

Esme brushes a few wisps of hair away from her face. "You have anything stronger?"

"Sure." Edward looks from Esme to me and back again before heading into the kitchen.

"Hello, Esme." I come around the couch and give her a hug.

She pulls me in so tightly, I can hardly breathe. "I'm so sorry, Bella. There was no way of knowing . . ."

My eyes widen, and I look at Edward over her shoulder. He's busy grabbing a bottle of liquor from the cabinet.

"What's wrong?" She trembles in my arms, and I stroke her hair.

There's a clink as Edward pours amber liquid into a glass tumbler. "Here, Mom."

Esme and I separate when Edward walks over and hands her the glass. She brings it to her lips with a shaking hand, spilling a few drops on the front of her coat. Edward watches her helplessly, his mouth opening and closing, so I put an arm around her shoulders and lead her to the couch.

"Thank you, dear."

Edward returns to the kitchen, watching us from behind the breakfast bar. He holds up the bottle. "Bella?"

I nod, and he pours two more drinks then joins us in the living room. He hands me a tumbler and sits on the love seat, leaving me on the couch beside Esme.

"Mom, what's going on?"

Esme gulps half of her drink in one shot, scrunching up her face as it goes down. "Haven't had bourbon in years. Packs a wallop." She laughs shakily and wipes the back of one hand across her mouth. "Edward, I hope you can forgive what I've done."

An unsettling feeling churns in my gut. "Maybe I should go . . . give you two some time."

Edward shakes his head at the same moment Esme does. "No."

Esme pats my knee. "Stay. This affects you."

"All right." I take a sip of the bourbon. It numbs my tongue and sets my throat on fire. For a moment, I wonder why anyone would willingly drink something so caustic, but then a comforting warmth blooms in my belly, taking the edge off.

Edward scrubs a hand across his face. "Mom, talk to me. I can't imagine there's anything you're capable of doing that I won't forgive."

Tears brim in Esme's eyes. "Thank you for saying so." She puts her drink on the coffee table and sits back, twisting her fingers together. "This is really hard. Edward . . . your therapist was right."

"About . . . ?"

"You were so young . . . I never dreamed you would remember it on some level, that it would become a part of your psychological makeup. I—I failed you." She drops her face in her hands, letting out a plaintive sob.

Edward leans so far forward, he almost falls off the love seat. He takes a long swallow of his drink. "Please . . . just tell me." His voice is gentle, but his eyes burn with need.

She takes a deep breath and raises her head, looking directly at him. "Edward . . . Carlisle and I—we're not your biological parents."

Of all the things she could say, that wasn't even on my radar.

Edward must feel the same because he laughs and shakes his head. "Mom, that's ludicrous! I mean, would you look at us?" He gestures between the two of them. "I couldn't resemble you more."

"That's true. You do look like me—but not your father." Esme looks up at the ceiling and takes a shuddering breath. "I've loved you since the moment you were born. You were so small, Edward . . . tiny and pink with curled fists. You came out squalling." She smiles, lids fluttering closed. "I'll never forget the moment I got the call that you were about to arrive." Tears trickle over her cheeks, and she balls her fists.

I touch her shoulder to offer comfort, glancing between her and Edward. Should I be here for this? I feel like a voyeur, an intruder.

Edward stares at his mother with an expression of helpless confusion. "Mom, what are you saying? Did you . . . have an affair?"

"No!" Esme's lids fly up, and her eyes blaze with green fire. "Your father is the love of my life. He was my first, my only."

"Help me understand, then."

"Clara called me that night. We hadn't spoken for years. She begged me to come, and I rushed to the hospital, so happy for the opportunity."

"Who the hell is Clara?" Edward's voice rises as if he's on the edge of sanity. He rakes his fingers through his hair with a shaky hand.

"Your birth mother. My sister."

"You don't have a sister!" Edward gulps the rest of his drink and stalks into the kitchen for a refill. He remains there, leaning against the breakfast bar. "Just . . . just tell me what's happening."

"Clara was a few years older than me. She was wild, getting involved with alcohol and drugs and bad boys. Dad insisted she settle down and follow house rules, so Clara told him to go to hell and moved out. Dad forbid me from talking to her though I did anyway. She was my sissy!

"He followed me one day, caught me bringing her some clothing and food. There was a huge blowout, and he gave me an ultimatum—either give up Clara or join her, living hand-to-mouth in the shitty part of town. I was only seventeen and didn't understand or desire her choice of lifestyle, so I went home with my father. It tore me up inside." A steady stream of tears cascades down Esme's face now, dripping off her chin and wetting her jacket and blouse. She doesn't seem to notice or care.

Edward stares at her with such intensity, his body rigid as stone. I can't tell what he's thinking. Grabbing a pack of tissues from my purse, I offer it to Esme.

"Thank you." She tugs out a tissue and mops at her face before taking a deep breath. "A few months later, Clara moved out of state with one of her many boyfriends. They drifted a lot. She'd send letters through a friend every so often. They were filled with lies—how great life was on the road, how she wished I could be with her, promises to come back for me. Through my college years, the letters slowed then stopped.

"It wasn't until a few years later, she called me from Seattle General to tell me my nephew was about to be born. Carlisle and I were already married. Emmett was a toddler." Esme shifts on the couch, shredding the damp tissue between her fingers, and looks at Edward. "Clara gave birth to you that night, Edward. She . . . had track marks on her arms . . . and bruises. She swore it was over with your father. Carlisle welcomed her into our home, and things were fine for a few weeks. But one night, she took you and disappeared. She left behind a note, telling a fairytale about how your father went through rehab and got clean. They were going to raise you together . . . " The sobbing starts in earnest, and Esme pulls more tissues out. "We tried to find you—even hired a private detective. I went to the police, but they said I had no rights. A child belongs with his parents, they said. What a laugh!"

Edward pours another bourbon and chugs it, putting the glass down hard on the counter. "Jesus Christ."

"Our investigator found them living in New Mexico. I tried to see her, but Antonio, your father, wouldn't let me near either of you. He spit in my face and threatened a restraining order.

"When you were three, a drug dealer killed Antonio, and Clara . . . was caught in the crossfire. You were alone in the apartment for _days_ with nobody to take care of you." Esme covers her face. "Finally, a neighbor heard you crying. The authorities took you into custody. One of the inspectors contacted my investigator, and I went to get you. When you saw me, you called me ‛Mama' and clung to my legs. They arranged an adoption, and we took you home. You've been mine ever since. Edward, you're my blood, and in every way that matters, you _are_ my son."

My mouth is agape. I want to comfort Esme, but Edward needs me more. I go to him, not sure what to do. He grabs me in his arms and crushes me against his chest.

"Holy fuck. I don't know what to think, what to say."

"Edward, I'm so sorry. Your father and I made the decision to treat you as our own. We never spoke of it again."

"Does Emmett know?"

"No. You were both so young, and Alice was just a baby. We moved to Forks and started a new life. Nobody knew the truth except us, the private detective, and the social workers in New Mexico. My parents were both gone by then."

Edward's arms tighten around me, his breathing ragged against my hair. "You never thought to tell me when I got older?" His voice holds no accusation, just a deep sense of weariness.

"We saw no reason to upend your life. Your biological parents were dead. If I knew there was a chance you'd be scarred this way . . ." Her voice hitches. "You and Tanya, the insecurity, the need to be loved—it's all my fault! You must h-hate me."

Edward lets go of me and rushes to Esme, pulling her up from the couch into a hug. "No, Ma. I could never hate you. Look what you went through for _me_. If you didn't keep track of me, who knows where I could have ended up! I love you so much." They sway together in the middle of the living room.

I pour myself another drink. The amber liquid goes down easier, a pleasant warmth spreading from the center of me outward until my joints and limbs feel elastic. In the living room, Edward and Esme huddle together on the couch. He strokes her arm and whispers to her. I can't hear the words, but it's obvious he's comforting the only mother he's ever known. Some people might react with anger at hearing such a stunning revelation, but I'm so glad Edward understands why his parents handled it this way.

"Bella, my mom is going to stay the night. Why don't we take her to dinner?" Edward stands across the breakfast bar from me and places his hand on top of mine.

"No, you two need time together. I'll head back to Delaney Hall—I've got so much catching up to do anyway."

"Are you sure?" Edward ducks his head to look at me.

"Of course! Your mom isn't here every day, and I am."

"There's room for the three of us . . ."

I caress Edward's cheek. "Another time. I'll see you tomorrow."

I gather my things and say goodbye to Esme, reassuring her that things will be all right.

Edward walks me out. The moment the apartment door closes, he grabs me in his arms, pressing my back against the wall. His fingers tangle in my hair, one hand cupping my jaw. "Thank you." Our eyes meet, his bloodshot and wet with tears.

I smile, rubbing my fingers lightly over his chest. "For what?"

"Giving me some time with Mom. We do need it."

"Edward, I love you. We have the rest of our lives to be together and work through this. At least now you know the origins and have a starting point for your therapy."

Edward strokes the hair along the side of my cheek. "Tanya was never understanding—the way you are. She squelched who I really am, made me feel inferior." He cups my face, kissing me hard. "You bring out the best parts of me, make me want to be a better man. Life is so much fun with you—even if we're just sitting around studying. I thought I was in love with Tanya, but I didn't even know what love was until you walked into that church."

I swallow around the lump forming in my throat. I can't speak without crying, so I kiss him back, pouring everything I feel into it.

**~*SN*~**

When I arrive at Delaney Hall, there's a certain hush blanketing the space. I can tell Becca's spending the weekend with Jim because the dishes are sitting in the drainer, and tracks from the vacuum crisscross the carpet.

I flop on the couch and tilt my head against the back with my eyes closed. My psychology lectures await, but there's no chance of concentrating on them tonight. The liquor still creates a false sense of relaxation that my mind rejects. Thoughts whirl about in my head, moving faster and faster.

Edward is adopted.

Esme is his biological aunt.

He was alone for days when his parents were killed.

I wonder if they were good to him when they weren't doing drugs or if he was neglected. An image of a toddler with tufts of reddish hair and scared green eyes calling out for his mama floats behind my lids.

Edward, the popular jock in high school, always surrounded by cheerleaders, yet so profoundly insecure that seeing me in Mike's arms was enough to set off a chain of events that impacted both of our lives. Of course, Tanya took full advantage—can't forget her part in all this or Mike's for going along with her evil plan.

My thoughts turn to Tanya's latest schemes. She hires someone to attack her, and Edward ends up spending the night in her hospital room; then she sends me that awful DVD, and I break things off with Edward, falling right into her web of lies and deceit.

Tanya must have realized what she was doing to Edward. Maybe she enjoyed rough sex, but Tanya lured him into drinking and popping pills and didn't care as long as she could mold him into what she wanted.

A knot forms in my chest, pulling tighter and tighter.

Tanya Denali is not getting away with this.

I pull out my cell phone and dial my father.

"Bells? It's so good to hear your voice! Thought you forgot about your old dad."

My throat jams up. Hearing Charlie's voice makes me feel like a little girl again. I want to crawl onto his lap so he can put his strong arms around me and tell me everything's going to be all right.

"Bella? You there, honey?"

He's probably in the living room with an icy can of beer, watching a baseball game; the cheering of the crowd coming through the speaker yanks me back in time. I've never been a big sports fan, but I loved sitting in the living room with my dad, watching games. Sometimes I'd bring a book with me, but I rarely ended up reading any of it. The only way to glimpse the real Charlie, not the gruff Police Chief, is to watch sports with him. It's the one time he truly lets his guard down and experiences true joy.

I burst into full-on, blubbering tears. "Wish I . . . was th-there . . . to watch a g-game . . . with you, Daddy."

"Well, now I _know_ something is wrong—you never call me Daddy. What the hell is going on over there, Isabella Marie?"

**~*SN*~**

**~*Edward*~**

After Bella leaves, I slide down the wall and rest my forehead on my knees. My mind is hyper-aware, despite the amount of Wild Turkey I slammed back. It would take a lot more than that to get me drunk right now.

I grind my knuckles into my eyes hard enough to create yellow flashes. How could an abandoned little boy live inside me all these years without my knowledge? I grew up as part of a healthy, whole family unit, treated the same as my siblings, yet somewhere inside, I'm still broken.

My mother—my real mother—is brave. She could have left me hanging, wondering what caused the psychological issues, instead of hopping on a plane and confessing the truth. Mom thought there was a real possibility I'd hate her after the truth was out, yet she still told me.

That's the kind of woman I belong with, not one who lies and schemes, caring only about herself. Bella is honest and brave like Esme. Tanya is selfish and dishonest, a lot like my biological mother was.

When I push the apartment door open, it seems to weigh a hundred pounds. Mom is in the kitchen, washing dishes. Her duffel bag is no longer against the wall, probably already on the futon in my office.

"Ma, what are you doing?"

"Cleaning up. What do you want for dinner? I can go shopping . . ."

"Not a chance. I'm taking _my mother_ out on the town."

She freezes in the middle of drying a coffee mug and turns to face me, her eyes shining with tears—eyes that look so much like mine. "I love you so much. I never wanted any of this pain for you." She puts the mug away, tosses the dishtowel over her shoulder, and pulls me into a hug.

I rest my chin on top of her disheveled hair. "I know. You and Dad have given me everything, and it means even more to me now that I know the truth."

"I'd like to freshen up before dinner." Mom pats her hair self-consciously when we part.

"You're always beautiful, Ma."

"Oh, you charmer! Carlisle taught you well."

I follow my mother into the office and pluck the duffel off the futon, bringing it into my room. When she opens her mouth to argue, I silence her with a look. "You are not sleeping on that lumpy futon. Take my room."

I leave her to freshen up and snicker a few seconds later when she goes into the bathroom and exclaims, "I went out in public looking like _this_?"

**~*SN*~**

Gianna's is a cozy, Italian restaurant just outside of Hanover. I've heard the food is superb, but I mainly chose it for the lack of associations. I've never been to Gianna's, and that means I've never taken Tanya or Bella there.

We enter the cozy vestibule, and I approach the reception desk, requesting a quiet table. We have to wait twenty extra minutes, but the host finally seats us in a round, high-backed booth on the quieter side of the dining room.

Once the waitress takes our orders, I grab Mom's fingers. "It was so brave and selfless of you to come forward and tell me all this."

Her expression is incredulous. "How could I not? Once I knew how the past still affects you, there was no other option."

I look at the ceiling and smile, shaking my head. "Not true. Not everyone would choose as you did. Tanya wouldn't know the truth if it bit her. In fact, she's quite the deceiver."

"How about Bella?" Mom asks with a cocked eyebrow.

"She'd be honest—even if it cost her."

"You've chosen well, baby boy." She blushes and ducks her head. "Sorry. I know you're too old for silly nicknames."

Mom hasn't called me that since third grade. When I turned ten, I told her to "knock it off before I die of embarrassment."

"I'll let you get away with it this time." I grin and wink at her.

Through some kind of unspoken, mutual agreement, we don't talk about the past or any other emotionally charged issues once our meals arrive. We exchange small talk about her garden club, my studies, and how hard Dad's been working lately.

After the waitress wraps up the leftovers, we linger over coffee and pastries. Mom picks flaky bits off with her fingers, making a mess on the china plate. I sip a strong, black coffee, enjoying the boost of energy it brings to my tired bones.

"You must have questions for me . . ."

I consider this for a moment. What do I need to know? "When you first brought me home, was I . . . okay?"

"You were withdrawn but clingy, too. You couldn't bear to be away from me for long."

"Did I . . . miss her?"

Mom smiles sadly. "You didn't really know, honey. To you, I _was_ your mom."

"I don't understand."

Mom sighs and opens her purse, pulling out a well-worn photo and handing it to me. Two teen girls sit on a wooden bench in their Sunday best: one in a pink dress with a white hat and the other in a white dress with a pink hat. Their cheeks press together, caramel hair curling around their shoulders, green eyes dancing with mirth. They could almost be twins, but one is a slight bit taller than the other, her face a tad more mature.

"Wow."

"Exactly. You thought I was your mommy and that I disappeared for a while to . . . to find us a better place to live."

"What about my biological father?"

"You never asked."

"Did they ever love me? Were they good to me?"

A small sob hiccups out of Mom, and she presses a hand to her chest. "I don't know, honey. You were healthy—no signs of physical abuse—but beyond that . . . I can't say. We did our best with you, treated you as our own. Rest assured, I've never thought of you as anything other than my son, and neither has Carlisle."

When we return to the apartment, I call and talk to my father for a few minutes. Our discussion is brief, full of awkwardness and choked-up moments of silence. He offers the same assurances my mother did, and tears sting my eyes when he says he loves me. When we're done, I give the phone to Mom, who disappears into my bedroom, speaking to him in low tones for quite a while.

I sit on the couch with the lights off, still processing today's revelations. Part of me yearns to call Bella, but I text her instead.

**Had a nice dinner w/Mom. Still processing all this . . . See you tomorrow? I love you, beautiful. ~ E**

My phone vibrates less than a minute later.

**I'm here. Love you, too. ~ B**

I smile, feeling warm inside, because I know that Bella's message, though short, is heartfelt and true. She'll always be there for me as long as we're honest with each other. There are no more secrets to pry us apart.

**~*SN*~**

The clank of pots and pans wakes me from a fitful slumber. When I told Mom that fucking futon was lumpy, I had no idea how true it was. Ugh.

I crack open one eye and scrunch it closed against the blinding light streaming through the window. Sliding my legs over the side of the futon, I sit up and rub my aching back before pulling on yesterday's clothes. By the time I remembered pajamas last night, Mom was already asleep in my room.

The hush of voices from the kitchen piques my curiosity, and I venture out of my office and peek around the wall to the living room. My mom is perched on a stool at the breakfast bar with a steaming mug while Bella makes breakfast.

Almost as if she senses me, Bella turns and spies me leaning against the wall, watching. "Good morning, sleepy head. Feel like an omelet?"

"I feel like someone beat the crap out of me, but I'd love to have an omelet just as soon as I clean up and find some fresh clothes." I rub my tired eyes. "Morning, Ma. How did you sleep?"

"Morning, dear. I slept like a baby. It was so generous of you to give up your bed."

_Got that right._

When I go in my bedroom to freshen up, I notice the bed is already made, and Mom's packed bag is sitting on the end of it. I'm not sure how I feel about such a short visit. Part of me wants her to stay, but another part is anxious to get to work. I want to set up a session with Dr. Pyke, discuss things with Bella, and give myself time to mull everything over. So many conflicting feelings and desires bandy about in my head.

By the time I shower and dress, Bella and Mom have already finished breakfast. I sit next to my mom at the breakfast bar while Bella cooks my omelet.

As she places the plate in front of me, she says, "Listen, I'm going to drive your mom to the airport, and then I'll come back."

"I can take her."

"You relax and eat. I'm sure you need some time to yourself anyway."

Mom nudges my arm. "Listen to Bella."

Before they leave, I hold my mom for a long time and thank her again for telling me the truth. She tears up, holding my face tenderly.

A big part of me is relieved to have the apartment to myself after they're gone. I start examining every move I've made since high school and attributing much of it to what happened when I was a toddler; then I second-guess myself and wonder if I'm just making excuses for my shitty decisions.

Even though it's the weekend, I pull Dr. Pyke's card out of my wallet. The call is answered by a machine but offers a beeper number for emergencies. This doesn't qualify as a mental health crisis, so I leave a message. "Dr. Pyke, this is Edward Cullen. I . . . um . . . there have been some developments, and I'd like to move my appointment up if I can. My mom was able to shed some light on my childhood. I'd appreciate it if you would call me at your earliest convenience."

Something inside me expands until it feels as if I'll explode. I go into the kitchen and grab the bottle of Wild Turkey from the cabinet, my knuckles white around the neck of the bottle. I sink onto a stool at the breakfast bar and put the bottle down, staring into the amber depths. I pick it up and tip it to my lips, stopping before any comes out, then put it down again.

Numbing my pain is how I got where I am.

Drinking.

Popping Albright's little blue pills.

Losing myself in Tanya.

Allowing myself to be manipulated, appeased, and misdirected.

It's important to keep a clear head. I pour the rest of the bottle down the drain.

My cell rings. I don't recognize the number. "Hello?"

"Edward, it's Dr. Pyke."

"Thank you for calling me back. I know it's the weekend."

"No problem. I was in my office catching up on paperwork. If you can be here within the hour, I have time to meet with you to discuss your new discoveries."

Something twisted tight inside begins to unwind slowly. "That would be awesome. I'll be right there."

When I enter the brownstone and pass the spot in the hall where I manhandled Bella the other day, I shudder. How many times have I come close to fucking things up with Bella, and how much more will I put her through before this is over?

I knock on the door, and Dr. Pyke welcomes me in. She's casually dressed in jeans and a tailored blouse.

"Come in. Have a seat. Can I offer you a water?"

"No, thanks." I rub sweaty palms on my jeans and sit in one of the chairs facing her desk.

Dr. Pyke appears relaxed when she takes her seat, just like my first visit. "So, Edward, where would you like to begin?"

"Well, after my visit with you, I called my mom to ask if she knew of any potential issues from childhood. She said no, but the next night, she hopped a plane and showed up at my door."

Dr. Pyke raises her brows but folds her hands together and waits patiently for me to go on.

I explain everything Mom told me about her sister and how I came to be part of the Cullen clan. As I tell the story, a knowing gleam appears in Dr. Pyke's eyes, and she nods often. Explaining my history dries out my mouth, draining me all over again, so I take her up on the water.

Dr. Pyke looks thoughtful. And calm, always calm. "How do these revelations make you feel?" When I stare, she continues. "You recited the story to me, and I can tell you've made some connections, but what's going on inside you?"

The need to move overcomes me, and I leave my chair to pace around her office. The empty water bottle collapses in my fist with a satisfying crunch, and I toss it into the wastebasket. I run my fingers through my hair with a huff. "Wow. Well, I feel really stupid, for one. How can it be that I didn't know all of this was hiding inside me, just waiting to be . . . to be triggered?"

"Early childhood trauma is like that, Edward," she answers in an even voice, which just agitates me all the more.

"Let me get this straight. You're basically telling me that what happened when I was three dictates who I am today?"

"Not at all. Those events have a _bearing_ on who you are, an influence over your native proclivities, but they don't define you—not unless you allow them to. Now that you're aware of what caused certain behaviors, the issues can be worked on."

"So . . . when I saw Bella with Mike back in high school, it triggered memories of being abandoned when I was a child?"

"That's my best guess, yes. You were essentially abandoned by your parents, left alone to fend for yourself until someone found you. That is extremely traumatic for a child."

"And when Tanya swooped in to save me, I clung to her at first. Later on, she encouraged the alcohol and drug use . . . the rough sex. I just—"

"Edward, it's clear Tanya has her own set of issues. You were looking for someone who would be there for you, and in that moment, she was. Later on, Tanya probably exploited your weaknesses in an effort to keep you."

I grimace. "Like rats in a maze. Is this common—that there are so many tangled up layers of issues between people?"

"Unfortunately, many of us come with baggage. Sometimes we find people who raise us up, and sometimes we latch onto those who drag us down. Be encouraged, though. You know what the issues are, and you can begin the healing process."

I leave Dr. Pyke's office feeling somewhat empowered. The way ahead might be bumpy, but I'm ready.

Before pulling away from the curb, I check my text messages.

**Released from hospital and staying with Kate. Please come to me. We belong together. ~ Your T**

Anger rockets through me. Could Tanya be that delusional? Apparently so, because the next text is from her, too.

**If I close my eyes, I can still feel your hands gripping my hips as you pound into me. You claim to love Miss Vanilla, but we both know what you really like. ~T**

"Fuck you, Tanya," I whisper, resting my forehead against the steering wheel.

I don't want what we had, never truly wanted that life—at least not sober. When I sift through my memories, they make a lot more sense through the filter of what Mom told me about my past. I was vulnerable, and Tanya took full advantage. I allowed her to lead me down an unhealthy road, and part of me had to know it on some level—I'm hardly blameless in all this.

I know her texts should go ignored, but I can't help myself.

**We. Are. Done. ~E**

There's one more text. I let out a breath of relief when I see it's from Bella. It doesn't even matter what it says, just knowing it's from her makes me feel better.

**On my way home from airport. Talked to Charlie last night—will tell you about it when I get there. Love you! ~B**

**I love you, beautiful. Have some stuff to tell you, too. ~E**

When I get home, Bella's already there. She's sitting on the couch with the empty bottle of Wild Turkey on the coffee table in front of her.

"Hey, beautiful!"

"Hey." She looks at me and holds up the bottle. "Did you drink the rest of this after we left this morning?"

"God, no! I won't lie—I was tempted. I had it in my hand . . . even put the bottle to my lips . . . but I ended up pouring it down the drain. I figured easy access to past crutches wasn't a good idea."

Bella lets out a breath. "I'm so glad. I mean, you can drink if you want to . . . and I'd never presume to tell you what to do . . ."

I sit down and take her hand. "Bella, stop. It's okay. Did Mom make her flight okay?"

"Yup."

I put my arm around Bella, and she snuggles close, laying her head on my shoulder. "I called Dr. Pyke after you left. She happened to be at her office and told me to come for a session."

"That's great! How'd it go?"

I rehash my therapy session and explain how Dr. Pyke feels I can make progress now that I'm aware of my past. Bella enthusiastically agrees.

I debate whether or not to tell her about the texts from Tanya, but secrets and miscommunications are what landed us in trouble in the first place.

"In the spirit of full disclosure, I have something else to tell you. Tanya texted me twice."

Bella's body goes rigid, and her tone is deadly. "Oh, really?"

"She's fucking delusional."

"Can I see them?"

"If you want to, but I think—"

"I want to."

I pull my phone out and show her Tanya's texts and my reply. She's quiet for a few minutes, reading Tanya's words a few times.

"That crazy bitch. She'll never stop, will she?"

I shift on the couch, turning her toward me. "It doesn't matter how hard she tries or what she wants. I'm with you as long as you'll have me. There are no more secrets for Tanya to uncover." Bella looks down, and I tip her chin up until our eyes meet. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you!"

"Then leave Tanya where she belongs—on the outside and in the past. She has no power unless we give it to her."

Bella leans forward and presses her lips to mine. Sliding my hands into her hair, I angle my head to deepen the kiss and sweep my tongue into her warm mouth. She digs her fingers into my biceps, setting off a flare of tightening heat in my groin.

My mind focuses only on Bella and how much I want her. Without breaking the kiss, I slide one arm under her legs and the other around her back and scoop her off the couch, heading for my room. I kneel on the bed and try to lower her carefully, but she slips from my hold and bounces against the mattress, dark hair fanned out like a halo.

Bella looks up at me. "What are we doing?" Her voice is husky, cheeks flushed.

Hovering above her, I brush my lips against hers and slide my hand under the front of her shirt, gliding over silken skin until my palm encounters rough lace. I nibble along her jaw and whisper in her ear. "I want you. I know we decided to wait, and it's okay if we do." _I'll just have to rub one out in the shower while dreaming of you—maybe once every hour._

Bella moans softly and rolls her hips against me. "No."

I lift my head, confused and more than a little hopeful. "No what?"

"Waiting." She grabs my face, looking into my eyes with fire. "Absolutely no more waiting." And then she mashes our lips together.

**~*SN*~**

* * *

**A/N: What do you think of Esme's revelations? Even though she and Carlisle did their best, Edward was still affected by the trauma. :-( I expect this story to be 2-3 more chapters.**

**If you haven't checked out my new dystopian, **_**A Measure of Grace**_**, I'd love you to join me! It's an all human, Edward/Bella story that takes place after a deadly virus sweeps the earth. Think Walking Dead without the zombies. AMoG posts every other Tuesday.**

**Follow me on Twitter: at SaritaDreaming or at SarahAisling**

**Fanfiction blog: saritadreaming dot word press dot com**


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